


A Million Little Things

by AGirlNamedEd



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Families of Choice, MODREN era, Modern Era, Multi, NYEH HEH HEH, Slice of Life, The Adventure Bang 2019, or should i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-11-24 08:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20905034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlNamedEd/pseuds/AGirlNamedEd
Summary: In the city of Neverwinter, there sits an apartment building. It isn’t the biggest apartment building, or the nicest, or even the cheapest, but for the people who live there—and even some who don’t—it’s home, and that’s what matters in the end.(A TAZ: Balance AU for the modren era, where we take your podcast and turn it alchemy-like into fanfiction. More of a series of interconnected one-shots than anything. Any and all characters and relationships tagged are important characters for at least one chapter, I promise.)





	1. There's Nothing in This World I Wouldn't Do

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> *ahem* Hello and welcome to A Million Little Things, a Balance AU for the modren era! This is my fic for The Adventure Bang 2019! You might remember that last year I wrote [The Journey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16385873/chapters/38352929), a canon-compliant look at Killian and Carey’s relationship. This year I went back to my roots as a purveyor of Fine AUs That Nobody Asked For. (Yes this is my second modern AU for Balance. No I am not touching Echoes right now. Let me live please.) The title for this one comes from the song “A Million Little Things” by Rosie and the Riveters, and in fact each song title comes from a song lyric! All the songs (and others) can be found on [this playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1H4Ioirys7i7nadJfnLjNc?si=GmtZokxYRdCtnFRxGb-7pw).
> 
> And of course!!! This is a Big Bang! So! Collaborators! These are the fantastic artists I was paired up with for this project:
> 
> Juno: [[Tumblr](https://wizbian.tumblr.com)] [[Twitter](https://twitter.com/lumiosegym)]  
Sloane: [[Tumblr](https://divinelark.tumblr.com)]  
Squid: [[Tumblr](https://squidink-spaghetti.tumblr.com/)] [[Twitter](https://twitter.com/squidinkspag?s=17)]
> 
> PLEASE check them out and give them SO MUCH LOVE they deserve it! And also don’t forget to look at all the other fantastic fics in the bang! This fic will be updated twice a day until all chapters have been posted, so please enjoy! Thank you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, Barry is moving in with Lup and Taako. Taako has no strong feelings on the subject. And you can't prove otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Hey Brother" by Avicii.
> 
> _Oh, if the sky comes falling down_
> 
> _For you_
> 
> _There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do_

Magnus shouldered his way into the apartment, a box the size of a large dog in his arms. “Taako, would it have killed you to prop the door open?” he complained, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Yeah,” Taako said, not looking up from his magazine.

A sock whipped out from the door to Lup’s bedroom, smacking Taako in the face. “Prop the door open, dingus!” Lup shouted. “Barry and I are busy!”

Taako made a huge show of groaning and pulling himself up off the couch, trudging to the door as Magnus carried his box towards the bedroom. “It’s _your_ boyfriend who’s moving in,” he called. “Come do it yourself.”

“I told you, I’m _busy_.”

He tucked a chair under the door handle to keep it open and wandered back to his spot on the couch, flopping down and picking up his copy of _Edible Neverwinter_. Merle waddled into the apartment a few seconds later, carrying a significantly smaller box than the one Magnus had earlier. “This one says ‘hall closet,’” he called out. “Where d’you want it?”

“In the fucking _closet_, old man,” Taako said, glaring across the room at him over the top of his magazine. “You’ve been here a billion and one times; you fuckin’ _know_ where the hall closet is.”

Merle’s face told Taako that he’d be flipping him off if his hands weren’t full, but he settled for a “fuck you” before turning to the apartment’s tiny front closet.

Magnus reappeared from the bedroom, Barry trotting along behind him. “We’re just grabbing more stuff,” Magnus told Taako as they walked by. “Any time you want to get up and help would be cool.”

Taako waved vaguely, settling further into the couch and staring steadfastly at his article about farmers’ markets. “Taako’s good out here.”

Another sock beaned Taako in the side of the head. “Come help your sister, you lazy ass,” Lup shouted from her room.

Sighing, Taako dragged himself off the couch again and into the bedroom that Lup would be sharing with her boyfriend from now on. She was sitting in the middle of their unmade bed, digging through the box Magnus had just brought them. Suddenly she laughed and held up what appeared to be a denim pillowcase. “Oh my _god_.”

“Didn’t you buy that for him?” Taako asked, leaning on the door frame with his arms folded.

“Yeah, but it was a joke gift and I didn’t think he _kept_ it.” To Taako’s horror, she ripped a pillowcase off one of the pillows on her bed and started wrestling the jean pillowcase on instead. Barry had irreparably demolished her sense of good taste. “You gonna be in charge of the kitchen stuff when it gets up here or what?”

“If you think I’m letting anyone else organize my pride and joy you are _wrong_.” He shrugged. I’m just waiting for them to bring up his fuckin jlates and jorks so I can get started.”

Lup looked up at that, grinning. “Jlates and jorks?”

He pointed at the pillowcase. “Look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn’t have denim plates and forks and shit with that fuckin’ jillowcase sitting right there. If he brings in a jrying jan or something I will have a _fit_.”

She shook her head. “Well, whatever works.”

“Stop encouraging your boyfriend’s obsession with denim.”

Lup tossed the pillow back to the head of the bed and looked up at him, head tilted. Taako folded his arms and tried to look aloof. He loved his sister, he did, they’d gone through too much together for him not to love her. But she knew him well enough to tell when something was up, and she loved him too much to leave it alone. “You’re really nervous about this, aren’t you?” she asked.

He scoffed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”

“Taako.” A hand fell on his shoulder and he didn’t move. “You’re the one who asked for this. I was gonna move in with Barry until you asked—”

“Yeah, I know, I was _there_.” He turned to face her. She was looking steadily at him with her eyebrows raised, inviting him to continue talking. “It’s just—okay, like, I didn’t want you to move out and stick me with rent I can’t afford by myself? Like you and Barry have university salaries and shit and I work part time at fuckin’ Jimothy’s Stinkin’ Coffee Hut. And I’m _not_ getting a new roommate. Fuck that.”

“I know all that.” Lup sat back. “That’s _why_ we had Barry move in with us instead in the first place. I’m not leaving my baby brother out in the cold.”

“Technically—”

“But that’s still not what we’re talking about,” she continued, talking over his protests about who was older, _technically_. “Why are you nervous? You love Barry. He was your best friend before he was my boyfriend.”

“Only because you two couldn’t get your heads out of your asses long enough to—”

“That’s _still_ not what we’re talking about. Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not _nervous_, okay?” Taako threw up his hands. “I’m just—a little _apprehensive_, that’s all. You know, because my baby sister’s boyfriend is moving in with us and maybe he’s really important to her or some bullshit, and this is a big deal? So sue me for being kind of _concerned_.”

Lup leaned forward and mussed his hair. Taako squawked and moved away, fussing with it. “It’ll be fine, Taako. Nothing’s changing much. I’m not going anywhere. Barry’s just going to be around more often, that’s all. He practically lived here to begin with. You aren’t being replaced.”

“Wh—that’s not what’s—you—” Taako sputtered.

He was saved by Magnus’s loud voice booming through the apartment. “Hey, Taako, this one’s labelled ‘kitchen’ and if you don’t come help with it I’m letting Barry put it all away himself!”

“That’s not really—” Barry started, but Taako had already bounded out of the bedroom and skidded into the kitchen on his sock feet. Barry smiled at him and set a box on the rickety card table they used in the kitchen. “I know better than to get in Taako’s way here.”

It was stupid, and Taako knew it was stupid, but just the simple reassurance that the kitchen was still _his space_ despite the changes helped unclench the iron grip his anxiety had on his guts. “You’re damn right,” he said poppin the top of the box open. “I do _magic_ in here.” He pointed at Magnus. “Don’t rearrange my kitchen if you don’t want me to rearrange your workshop.”

“You rearrange my workshop and I’ll rearrange your teeth,” Magnus said casually, stretching out his back after setting the three boxes he’d been carrying on the ground. He eyed the card table as Taako started pulling out newspaper-wrapped drinkware. “Speaking of my workshop, you know I could make you guys a way nicer table.”

Taako shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“I mean, there’s three of you now, and if you ever get a boyfriend there’ll be four, and it’s already pretty cramped on Sundays—”

“I said it’s _fine_,” Taako snapped. He grimaced. He didn’t mean to get so crotchety. He just hated it when people pointed out that Lup had a boyfriend now, so when was Taako going to surrender to the perfect storybook romance life too? So sue him if he wasn’t interested in dating right now. It wasn’t _his_ fault that there were no good looking single men in Neverwinter, or that he was more focused on his floundering YouTube channel than romance. He had other shit going on and it was fine. “Sorry, I—whatever. It’s—ask Lup, I guess.”

Magnus nodded slowly, and Taako didn’t like the thoughtful look on his face. Despite looking like the poster boy for big, dumb, and hairy, Magnus was disgustingly insightful sometimes and it was a _pain in the ass_ when he turned it on Taako. “Okay. Well, I think there’s one more trip and then we’re good!”

“Do you need any help?” Barry asked.

“Nah.” Magnus flashed a grin and flexed. “I can handle it.” He disappeared out the apartment door again.

Barry stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Taako for a minute. Taako looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. Barry was always awkward. He just had an air of dorkishness around him at all times that made you want to shove him into the nearest locker. But it was especially pronounced now. “Need something?”

“You’re—are you really okay with this?” Barry asked.

Taako snorted and held up a mug that he’d just rescued from its newspaper prison. “I’m definitely not okay with a novelty ‘Screw Lab Safety I Want Superpowers’ mug in my kitchen. I have _standards_. Keep this shit at work.”

“No, I mean—” Barry shifted his weight. “You know. I know you and Lup have always been a duo. I don’t want to be someone who gets in the way of that, you know?”

Taako’s hands stilled, and he forced himself to take a long, slow breath, fighting against his immediate, ingrained instinct of _fuck off and leave me and my sister alone_. It was fine. It _was_ fine. Lup was right, this had been Taako’s idea. And it was a good one, because Taako only ever had good ideas. He left the box and walked to Barry, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Barold. That is _exactly_ why I am one hundred percent okay with you dating my sister and moving in here. If it were any other way I wouldn’t be nearly as chill about it.”

He laughed and shrugged Taako off. “Alright then. Um, I’m gonna go give Lup a hand. I think Lucretia’ll be here soon; I just texted her and she’s on her way down.”

“Fantastic.” Of all of them, Lucretia was the only one besides Davenport, who wasn’t even in town, with any sense of order. “You go work on getting it settled. Trust me. Taako’s got it handled.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR’S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * This is the chapter that probably changed the absolute least during the writing process.
>   * I wrote this chapter first with the idea of writing the oneshots out of order and then rearranging them as necessary, but wound up keeping them almost all in order.
>   * My friend once sent me a picture of a denim patterned frying pan with the caption “Barry Bluejeans” and I have never forgiven them. They’re right, but they shouldn’t say it.


	2. We Can Always Use a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angus McDonald is eleven (almost twelve!) years old, short for his age, and smart for any age. He's also old enough to not need a babysitter, and yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Our World" by Paul Williams, from _Emmett Otter's Jug Band Christmas_.
> 
> _Our world says "Welcome stranger, everybody's a friend"_   

> 
> _(We can always use a friend)_
> 
> _Favourite stories to tell_
> 
> _In our world_

Four flights of stairs while carrying a heavy backpack definitely counted as more than enough exercise for the day, Angus decided, dragging himself to the apartment door and knocking. If only the dumb elevator was working properly, he could have avoided all this.

The door opened and Julia’s smiling face greeted him. “Hello, Angus! Come on in.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Angus said politely, squeezing past her into the apartment. He dropped his backpack on the floor to untie his shoes as Julia moved to the kitchen.

“Magnus is still out,” she explained. He straightened his shoes on the tray and followed her, backpack in his arms. She started clearing a space on the kitchen table. Most of it was covered with craft magazines, mail, and clutter. “He should be back in a bit. Do you want a snack?”

“Yes, please.” Angus set his bag next to the table and pulled out his science fair notebook. He’d promised Mavis that he’d come up with a great idea for their project that would blow everybody away, but so far all he had was something to do with blood spatter analysis. “Is Magnus helping Lup’s boyfriend move in still?”

“No, he just texted me and said he wanted to finish up a project at work before he came home.” Julia ruffled Angus’s hair before turning to a cupboard and pulling out a jar of peanut butter. “He knew you’d be here today, though. Don’t think he’s forgotten.”

Angus ducked his head and smiled. “I didn’t think that.” But it was nice to be reassured.

“Right, of course. Anyway, how do peanut butter crackers sound?”

~~~

“No, okay, so you always move the knife _away_ from yourself when you carve.” Magnus’s large hands covered Angus’s small ones, and he gently guided him along the wood. “If the knife slips, you don’t want it coming towards you.”

Angus nodded and Magnus let go of his hands, letting him try again by himself. He gently scraped along the block of wood, minding his fingers. “That’s better,” Magnus said. Angus looked up and saw him grinning. “We’ll get you carving some sick-ass ducks yet!”

Despite himself, Angus laughed. “Just ducks, sir?”

“Ducks are a _great_ place for beginner woodcarvers to start!” Magnus insisted, flinging his arms wide.

Angus eyed the shelves behind him. They were filled with either woodcarving tools, uncarved blocks of wood, or carved wooden ducks. Magnus just _really_ liked carving ducks. He had a side business selling them on the internet. “Okay, sir,” Angus said, but he knew he didn’t sound convinced.

Julia stuck her head in the workshop’s open door. “Angus, honey, your grandpa’s here.”

Sighing, Angus nodded and hopped off the stool he was sitting on. “Okay.”

Magnus ruffled his hair. “Aw, you did good today. You can work on your duck again next time!”

Julia cleared her throat and pointed at their feet as they started to leave the workshop. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Angus sheepishly kicked the toes of his shoes against the floor and wiped them on the mat in front of the door. Magnus’s ‘workshop’ was really just the apartment’s second bedroom converted, which meant anyone who went in there tended to track sawdust and wood shavings through the apartment if they weren’t careful.

“We’ll see you later, Angus,” Julia said, leading him and Magnus to the door. “Have a good rest of your evening, now.”

“Bye, kid!” Magnus called, waving after him. Angus grinned at them and waved back before stepping out into the hallway.

~~~

“You don’t have to knock, you know,” Lucretia said as she opened the door to her apartment.

Angus shrugged. “Grandpa says you should always knock before you go into someone else’s space because it’s polite.”

She smiled and moved away from the door. “Suit yourself.”

Lucretia’s apartment was smaller than his and Grandpa’s, or Magnus and Julia’s, or Taako and Lup’s. She lived alone, so she only had one bedroom. Despite having less space, though, Lucretia’s apartment always felt more open than any of the other apartments Angus frequented. She kept it incredibly clean and organized, and while she wasn’t exactly strict she expected all her guests to keep it that way as well.

Angus liked going over to Lucretia’s because she had more books than anyone else he’d ever met, and she let Angus read whichever ones he wanted, even if other people said he wasn’t old enough for them yet. She told him once that she didn’t see the point in telling him what he could or couldn’t read. Anything he didn’t understand or have context for, he could always ask her. Angus didn’t like to pick favourite people—Mavis and June were both his best friends, and he didn’t have a favourite teacher—but of the people whose apartments he went to after school, Lucretia was definitely up there with the best. He thought of her like a cool lesbian aunt.

He followed Lucretia into the living room and settled in the corner of her white sectional couch. She sat at the table pushed against one wall where her laptop was set up. Quiet violin music drifted from a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. Angus dug into the biography he’d started the last time he was over.

After about half an hour of quiet, Lucretia looked up from her computer. “Don’t you have homework tonight, Angus?”

“I got it done at school today,” he said, eyes still glued to his book.

“Angus.” Her voice was firm, but not harsh.

He sighed and looked up at her. “Let me finish this chapter.”

“Oh, absolutely not. I wrote that one; I know what the chapter lengths are like.” She pointed at his backpack. “If you need help, you only have to ask me. Now let’s get to work.”

Pouting, Angus slid off the couch and trudged over to his backpack. “_You’re_ the one scrolling Twitter instead of writing,” he muttered.

“I’m—it’s _research_,” she sputtered, sitting up straight. But Angus saw her hurriedly click off of her web browser and grab her notebook. “Go do your homework. I’ll get us some snacks. We can have Pop Tarts, but only if you don’t tell your grandpa.”

~~~

Angus had completely forgotten that Lup’s boyfriend had moved in with her and Taako last weekend until he answered the door. “Uh, hi,” he said, blinking down at Angus through thick glasses. “You’re, uh, you’re Angus, right?”

He stood up straight and tried to look taller. He was a bit short for his age and sensitive about it, and Grandpa said that posture was important when making a good first impression. “That’s me. I’m Angus McDonald. Um, I think Taako and Lup are expecting me?”

“Yeah, Lup mentioned you’d be—”

He was cut off by Lup shouting from further in the apartment. “What is _up_, little dude?! Barry, let the kid in already! His backpack probably weighs more than you do!”

The man laughed and moved aside so Angus could come in. “Sorry about that. I’m, um, I’m Barry.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Angus dropped his backpack next to the door and knelt to untie his shoes. The apartment didn’t look that much different now that there were three people living in it instead of two. It was still just as much of a mess, for one thing. The kitchen was the only area that was consistently clean, and that was because Taako used it for his videos.

Barry cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. “Well, I’ll just—I’m—I’m gonna go. Brush my teeth. Bye.” He walked off in the general direction of the bathroom just as Lup appeared from her bedroom.

“What’s up, Ango?” she asked, flopping on the couch with a pair of socks in one hand. She struggled them up over her knees, still talking. “Taako’s out for now. He was gonna do a Sizzle It Up video, but he realized he didn’t have the right shit for it and had to go to the store. Probably won’t happen until tomorrow, at this rate.”

Angus felt his heart sink and tried not to let it show. He loved watching Taako film his videos. “Okay. Can I watch TV?” Lup usually let him watch whatever he wanted, and only mocked the crime dramas a little bit. She was kind of like a cool aunt in that way, only a different kind of cool aunt from Lucretia.

“Hell yeah.” She tossed him the remote and stood up. “Barry and I are gonna bail when Taako gets back, okay? Not that you’re not great and all.” She pinched his cheek and he instinctively recoiled, complaining. “But it’s Friday, and that means date night.” Lup was beaming. Angus remembered several times when he’d been at Taako and Lup’s and she’d left early to go on a date, or just not come home from work because she and Barry would go out afterwards. Taako always rolled his eyes over it and called the two of them “a pair of hopeless fucks,” but there was a fondness to it that Taako would never admit to out loud.

“That sounds nice,” he said politely, settling on one end of the couch. “Where are you going?”

“Bowling,” Barry called from the bathroom.

“Drinking,” Lup said at the same time. Then she laughed. “Well, I mean, we’re doing both. Bowling’s way more fun when you’ve been drinking, trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Lup gave him a thumbs up. “Cool. See you in a bit.” She disappeared into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Angus flipped through a few channels, finally settling on one that was playing a mostly okay adaptation of his second favourite Poirot novel. (He wasn’t supposed to be reading Agatha Christie, but there were only so many Caleb Cleveland novels, and Lucretia had her entire body of work and she said it was fine.) The actor playing Poirot was fine, but the Hastings needed work. Still, it wasn’t a bad film.

Barry joined him after a few minutes, sitting at the other end of the couch. “So,” he said during a commercial break, “you live in the building, right? How come you come here after school?”

Angus shrugged. “Grandpa doesn’t get home until six most days, so I bounce around between apartments.” He was only allowed to go to Lup and Taako’s on Fridays and weekends, though. Grandpa didn’t like that Angus never got any homework done when he was here.

“But you’re like—how old are you?”

He sat up straighter again. “I’m twelve.” Or, well, he would be in a month.

“Isn’t that old enough to stay at home?”

The movie came back on, and Angus used it as an excuse to not answer the question. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about. For all that Angus was insightful, he was also a horrendous liar. Even if he said something plausible like “my grandpa doesn’t want me home by myself until I’ve taken a home alone course,” he’d probably still do something to tip Barry off that he was lying.

It wasn’t _that_ big a deal. Or at least it shouldn’t have been. Most of the time the only one who seemed to think it was a big deal was Angus. He just didn’t like being on his own, that was all. It was different if he was sitting in his room and Grandpa was in the living room, or he was on Magnus and Julia’s balcony and Julia was inside. That was fine. He knew someone was nearby. Maybe he’d go check to make sure a couple times, but it was still fine. But being by himself?

The apartment door opened and Taako stalked in, a plastic shopping bag in each hand and a yellowed Tupperware container under one arm. “Mother _fucking_ Paloma, I swear to fuck,” he snapped by way of greeting, stomping across the apartment in his boots and letting the door slam shut behind him.

Barry cleared his throat and indicated Angus with his head. “It’s fine, sir,” Angus said. “I’ve heard worse.”

Taako stuck his head back into the living room. “Agnes, come help me put away groceries and I’ll teach you how to make apple turnovers.”

Angus scrambled off the couch, movie forgotten. “Okay!” The next best thing about going to Taako’s after watching him work on his internet cooking show was when he taught Angus how to cook. Mostly because then Angus got to take home whatever he made, and Grandpa was less annoyed about the homework thing because he was learning an important life skill.

“Fuckin’ Paloma and her _goddamn cranberry scones_,” Taako was muttering under his breath. He shoved things in the fridge haphazardly, then stopped and rearranged them before continuing. “Thinks she’s allowed to outdo Taako from TV, well like _fuck_ am I letting that container go back empty, I’ll—these turnovers are gonna knock her little old lady socks off, you got that Ango?”

Angus spotted the infamous container sitting on the counter. It was ancient yellow Tupperware, and peeking inside Angus could see the most mouth-watering scones in the world. “Can I have one, sir?” he asked.

“Knock yourself out,” Taako said before muttering “traitor” under his breath.

“I’m no traitor,” Angus said, grabbing a scone and putting the lid back on the container. “I just don’t see why I have to pick a side in your baked goods feud with the old lady next door. Especially when I can just eat both.”

“You’re a traitor to my cause,” Taako sniffed. He balled up the empty grocery bags and chucked them into a corner of the kitchen to be picked up later. “I can’t return her Tupperware without something in it. That’s not how this _works_. You never return a dish empty, Agnes. If you remember nothing else I ever teach you, remember that.”

Angus privately wondered if either of them knew who the Tupperware originally belonged to in the first place. “So,” he said, mouth full, “turnovers?”

“Eat your scone.” Taako started pulling bowls and ingredients out of cupboards. “Then you get to work peeling apples.”

~~~

“Your old man’s never this late.” Taako frowned at the oven clock, up to his elbows in soap suds. “You haven’t missed any texts from him, have you?”

“Grandpa doesn’t text,” Angus said, but he put down his dishtowel and went to check his cell phone anyway. He left it in his backpack when he wasn’t using it. It was only for emergencies anyway, so he hardly ever needed it.

Sure enough, he had two missed calls and a voicemail. Guilt turned Angus’s stomach. He was supposed to be more responsible than this. He quickly unlocked his phone and checked his voicemail.

After a few moments, Angus shakily deleted the voicemail and set his phone down. Grandpa wouldn’t be back until late tonight, and Angus would have to go home and eat dinner and go to bed by himself in an empty apartment. Grandpa had been very apologetic over the phone, but Angus had barely heard him over the loud, swirling anxiety that had gripped him the minute he heard the words “I’ll be home late tonight.” His hands clutched at each other, trying to stop themselves from shaking. He took a breath, then another. He had to go tell Taako.

“Hey, pumpkin, you good?” Taako was next to him, one eyebrow raised. His hand hovered cautiously over Angus’s shoulder, like he wasn’t sure whether he should touch him or not.

Angus shook himself, embarrassed at being caught like this. “I-I’m fine, sir,” he said, voice only cracking a little. “Just, um, Grandpa’s going to be late tonight, so…”

“So you’ll be on your own, huh.” Taako folded his arms and leaned back. He pursed his lips as he looked Angus over. “You good with that?”

“Fine,” Angus said automatically. He was, in fact, not fine with it at all, but what else was he supposed to do?

“No, you’re not.” Taako sighed dramatically and walked back towards the kitchen. “Lemme go get my phone and I’ll call your gramps, let him know you’ll stay here for the night. You go wash your face or something.”

“Sir, that really isn’t necessary,” Angus protested, trotting along behind him. It was a token resistance, and they both knew it. Relief had flooded him as soon as Taako said he was going to call Grandpa.

Unsurprisingly, Taako waved him off, already tapping at his phone. “Go eat a turnover, kid, I’m on the phone.” He held the phone up to his ear and leaned against the counter, drumming his fingers on it.

Angus went back out to the living room and sat down on the couch, drawing his knees up to his chest and making himself as small as possible. He wanted to disappear. He was almost twelve years old, practically a teenager, he shouldn’t still be dealing with this. And in front of Taako, too. Taako had enough stuff to deal with; it was nice enough that he agreed to look after Angus once a week as it was. He didn’t need Angus’s dumb emotional baggage.

This was ridiculous. He should’ve been fine spending a few hours alone in the apartment. June did it all the time. Besides, Taako and Magnus and Julia and Lucretia were all just a couple flights of stairs away. Even Mavis’s dad would help him out if he was really stuck. And Grandpa would come home eventually. He wasn’t leaving Angus forever. Angus knew that, theoretically, he wasn’t being abandoned again. It was just easier to remember when others were around.

He jumped when Taako flopped onto the couch beside him. “Your gramps said it was fine,” he said. “I’ll text Lup and Barold and let them know to come in quiet cuz there’s a kid sleeping on the couch. They’ll probably forget, but eh, it’s the thought that counts.”

Angus threw his arms around Taako in the tightest hug he could manage. He felt Taako freeze, but after a moment an arm wrapped around his shoulders. “Alright, settle down there, bubelah.”

“Thank you,” Angus mumbled.

Taako’s breath caught, and he quickly pushed Angus away. “No big thing. C’mon, I’m making meatballs for dinner. Give yourself a minute and then come wash your hands.”

Angus sat cross-legged on the couch and took a few deep breaths. It was fine. It would be fine. Taako was here, Grandpa would come for him. Things would work out alright.

And if Taako was a little sniffly and muttering about onions despite chopping garlic, Angus was polite enough to not comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * Angus McDonald is my good good magic boy and I love him!
>   * That's it that's the commentary
>   * Okay so also. Taako and Paloma having a weird passive-aggressive baked good based feud was one of the first things I came up with for this AU and I have no earthly idea why.


	3. Everything That We'll Ever Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carey is definitely more than a little excited for her wedding with Killian, the love of her life. But Killian has been spending more and more time at work recently out of worry over their finances. Carey’s worried about money, too, but surely they can have their dream wedding _and_ not have Killian work herself to death before they even get to the altar, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has art by Juno! Check it out and show him some love on [Tumblr](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188172147110/there-are-a-million-different-ways-to-say-i-love) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lumiosegym/status/1180891031841034240?s=20)!
> 
> Chapter title from "Girls Like Girls" by Hayley Kiyoko.
> 
> _We will be_
> 
> _Everything that we'll ever need_
> 
> _Oh_
> 
> _Don't tell me_
> 
> _Tell me what I feel_

Carey was just drifting off when the sound of the door opening woke her. It wasn’t Killian’s fault, not really, the door was just a little creaky, that was all. Although it _was_ kind of Killian’s fault, because she’d been saying she’d oil the hinges for months and it still hadn’t happened.

She didn’t move, instead listening to her fiancée stumble around in the dark for a while as she got changed for bed. After a minute she felt Killian’s side of the bed dip, and a large, warm body pressed up against her back. “Hey,” Carey whispered.

Killian flinched. “Oh, shit, sorry,” she said quietly. “Did I wake you?”

“I wasn’t asleep yet; it’s fine.” Carey snuggled back into her, smiling when Killian draped an arm over her. “They keep you late at work again?”

She felt Killian nod. “Yeah. Some dipshit tried to start something with Noelle again and I had to throw her out.” Carey winced. Poor Noelle always seemed to attract the worst sort of people. “Bright side, boss finally agreed to give me tomorrow off so we can go look at dresses and shit.”

Carey beamed, rolling over to face Killian. “Babe, that’s great! What took her so long to give you the okay?”

“Apparently, she thought she already had.”

Carey snorted. “Amazing.” She studied her fiancée’s face. Even in the dark of the room, she could see bags under her eyes. “We should get some sleep,” she said. “Long day of trying on dresses tomorrow.”

Killian kissed her forehead and rolled onto her back. Carey immediately missed the warmth, but also knew she’d be sweltering in ten minutes if Killian kept trying to spoon her. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Carey snuggled down into her pillow. “Night, love.”

~~~

Carey did a little twirl, admiring the way the skirt spun around after her. “What about this one?”

Killian sat on a small bench outside the change room, plaid shirtsleeves rolled up to her elbows, her chin propped in one hand as she watched her. “You look good in this one, too.”

“Kills,” Carey said, exasperated, “you’ve said that about all the dresses I’ve tried on today.” Killian shrugged uncomfortably. “Babe. This is the _fourth store_.”

“I don’t know what to tell you!” Killian threw up her hands and leaned back in her seat. “You look good in all of them!”

“Well, yeah,” Carey scoffed, flopping down next to her on the bench. “But you’re not helping me narrow it down, babe.” She eyed Killian’s outfit. And how come you’re not trying things on?”

“_You’re_ the one who wants a dress. I’m gonna go rent a white tux, remember?” Killian sat bolt upright, eyes wide. “We should bet me a bow tie and cummerbund the same colour as your hair.”

Carey hopped up. “Holy shit. Killian, you mad genius. Mags can wear the same tie and we can get Noelle a matching blue maid of honour dress.”

“Magnus can’t have a white tux, though. He’s getting a black suit. If he wanted to wear a white tux to a wedding he should’ve worn one to his; I don’t care how much he whines.”

“Okay, seriously, though.” Carey took her skirt in both hands and swished it around. “I’m not feeling the traditional floor length with trains and shit. But I don’t want to go too short, you know?”

Killian nodded. “Sure, yeah. You want it to still look like it belongs in a wedding party.”

“But I want to wear it after this too, right?” Carey sighed, dropping the skirt and smoothing out the fabric. “We don’t have enough money to afford something I’m only going to wear once. So it can’t be too obviously a wedding dress.”

“Babe, I know.” Killian patted her arm. “That’s why we’re just going to _nice_ dress stores instead of _wedding_ dress stores.”

“True that.” Carey eyed the dress she’d tried on before this one. It was the right length, hitting just above her mid-calf, but she absolutely hated the neckline and sleeves. The one she was wearing now was just a little too long, but she liked almost everything else about it. If she could get Julia to take it up half an inch, put some nice jewelry with it, bang, it’d look great. Unfortunately, it was also the most expensive dress she’d tried on all morning. “Kills,” she said slowly. “How much—remind me what our dress budget was again?”

Killian fixed her with a hard look. “You _know_ what our dress budget is. That’s why I’m _renting_ a tux instead of buying one.”

Carey deflated slightly. “Yeah, I know.” She wracked her brain, thinking about the other dresses she’d tried on. There had been one a couple stores ago that was almost as good as this one. And there was still one more place they hadn’t tried yet; maybe they’d find something there. But she knew they wouldn’t. This was it, this was the _right dress_, but it just wasn’t going to work out.

“Hey.” Killian took Carey’s hand. “Let’s get this one.”

Carey balked. “I’m—Kills that’s real sweet, but we can’t afford this one. I just grabbed it because it’s white.”

“No, this is clearly the right dress.” She pressed a kiss to the palm of Carey’s hand. “If this is the dress you want, then it’s the dress you should get. Maybe it’s a little outside our budget, but we can scrimp on shoes and stuff, and I can get a few extra shifts at work.” She smiled up at her. “Say yes to the dress, Care-bear.”

Carey laughed and shoved her. “You are _such_ a loser! Okay! Fine! I’ll get this dress!” She leaned down and kissed Killian on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

“Fuck yeah I am.”

~~~

Carey crossed one leg over the other and played with her hair while she waited for Killian to come out of the change room. She’d have to dye it again before the wedding, but that was something to worry about closer to. It needed to look fresh and neat for the big day, and doing it too early would just mean she’d have to deal with dark roots and ugly, faded blue. They had photos of what her hair looked like shortly after being dyed, so they could colour match ties and dresses and cummerbunds with those.

So that was one problem solved. They still didn’t have a caterer, but so far they had a venue, an officiant, some cute DIY stationary for invitations, and Carey’s dress. There couldn’t be that much left to do in the two months leading up to the wedding itself.

She was starting to get worried about Killian, though. She’d been so excited about getting her perfect dress that it hadn’t bothered her at the time, but what Killian had said about picking up more hours ate at her. Killian was spending more and more time at work lately. She was working herself to the bone for months now to try and scrape together as much cash as she could before the wedding. She came home late more often than not, and she looked exhausted all the time now. The idea of her doing even more than that just for a stupid dress ate at her, and Carey wasn’t sure how to bring it up with her. Could they really handle two more months of all this?

The change room door opened and Killian stepped out, looking incredibly dapper and handsome in the white tuxedo they’d chosen. She adjusted her cuffs and grinned at Carey, standing up straight. “Well?”

Carey smiled up at her. “You’re perfect.”

Killian tossed her hair, but she was flushed. “Well yeah. But how’s the tux?”

~~~

“You gotta talk to her, Carey,” Magnus said. He was sitting on the couch carving the rough shape of a duck into a block of wood, making sure the shavings fell on the newspaper spread out at his feet. “You’re not gonna solve the problem just by ignoring it.”

Carey rolled her eyes and jabbed another pin into the bottom of Noelle’s skirt. “Thanks, Mags, I never—I honestly hadn’t thought of that, thanks.”

“No, but seriously.” Magnus gestured with his knife as he talked, and if he was anyone else Carey would’ve been worried. “You two know each other better than anyone else. What’s the worst thing that could happen if you tell Killian you’re worried about her and she needs to take a break for her health?”

“She gets angry, we get in a big fight, and the whole thing culminates in us breaking off the wedding,” Carey said immediately.

Magnus faltered. “I…really don’t think that’ll happen.”

She shrugged. “You asked for worst case, I gave you worst case.”

He looked at Noelle helplessly. “Give me a hand here.”

Noelle eyed the pins Carey was wielding dangerously close to her legs, even though one was a prosthetic, and shook her head, red curls bouncing. “I-I think I’ll stay out of this one.”

Carey nodded sagely. “Wise choice. Mags, look, I know I’ve gotta talk to her. I just don’t know what to _say_.”

Magnus pointed the knife at her. “When you get home tonight, and Killian is there. You walk right up to her. You kiss her on the mouth. And you say ‘I love you and I want to take better care of yourself.’ And boom.”

“Boom?” Noelle said skeptically.

“Yeah, that’s—look, it’s at least the _start_ of the conversation.” Magnus shrugged. “I’m your best friend and your best man. You know I only want the best for you. And this is obviously fucking you up, because you’re thinking about it too much.” He held his arms out, showing himself off. “Be like me! I’ve never thought about anything in my entire life!”

Carey rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and what do your wife and your therapist think about your whole ‘Magnus Rushes In’ thing?”

“Eh, it’s a work in progress. Look, point is. This is bothering you a lot, and you’re not dealing with it because you’re overthinking it. So for once, maybe _I’m_ right and you should just go for it.” He went back to his duck. “I mean, I’m always right. But you know what I mean.”

~~~

Carey woke up to a large hand gently shaking her shoulder. “Sweetheart?” Killian’s voice was gruff with exhaustion, but still soft and tender.

She blinked sleepily, pushing herself upright on the couch. “What time is it?” she asked groggily.

“Just after one. Is everything okay? It’s not like you to fall asleep on the couch, especially if you’ve got an early gymnastics class in the morning.”

Carey rubbed her eyes. “I was—” She froze. Oh, shit, she’d been waiting up for Killian to talk to her like Magnus said. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep.

“Carey?”

“I love you,” Carey blurted. “Kills, you know I love you, right?”

Killian blinked down at her for a minute, then laughed and tugged her up off the couch. “I sure hope so, because we’re getting married in a couple months and then you’re stuck with me. Come on, let’s go to—”

“No, no, listen, wait.” Carey gripped Killian’s hands with her much smaller ones. “Killian, I’m—I know you’re worried about finances and stuff, but—I’m more worried about _you_. You’re working so much lately, like really long hours every day, never taking any breaks, and—I’m just worried about you.”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Carey searched Killian’s face, waiting for a reaction. She didn’t look upset, thankfully, mostly just surprised and a little confused. “Carey, I’m _fine_,” she finally said, squeezing her hands. “There’s just a lot of stuff to pay for right now, and they’re short-staffed at the bar right now so it all works out—”

“It doesn’t, though,” Carey interrupted, “not really. I barely see you these days! And when I do see you you’re exhausted and overworked and it’s not _healthy_, babe.” She let go of one of Killian’s hands to cup her cheek and run her thumb over the bags under her eyes instead. “I’d rather cut costs on the wedding than see you like this. Julia hasn’t hemmed the dress yet; we can take it back and get a cheaper one. I love you so much. I can’t stand seeing you like this. I can’t imagine you _like_ being overworked and overtired.”

Killian leaned down to rest her forehead against Carey’s. “I—you’re right,” she said quietly. “I don’t. But I want to give you everything, Carey. I want us to have the wedding you deserve. If that means a few extra long nights for me, that’s fine. I promise I’m not biting off more than I can handle.”

Carey wrapped her arms around Killian’s shoulders. “Take more time to relax. That’s all I’m asking for. Promise me that, okay?”

“I promise.” Killian’s arms squeezed her tight, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “I love you too, Carey. Let’s go to bed.”

[ ](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188172147110/there-are-a-million-different-ways-to-say-i-love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * MY GIRLS
>   * I adore them so damn much I wrote a 60k word fic about them last year, so this year I toned it back and only wrote 2000.
>   * Carey and Magnus’s relationship is almost as important to me as Carey and Killian’s. I love them.
>   * Magnus...Big Himbo Energy
>   * Noelle was supposed to have a prosthetic arm as well as a prosthetic leg, but it just never really came up because she wound up being a much more minor character than I originally wanted her to be. Sorry, Noelle, I love you.


	4. Crazy Fools and Failures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davenport is a man of two worlds: his home in the apartment building, just across the hall from his best friend Merle, and his boat, the Starblaster. Balancing the things you love can be tricky, especially if you don’t realize just how much you love them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has art from the awesome Sloane! Please go give her some love on [Tumblr](https://divinelark.tumblr.com/post/188182364386/image-description-a-digital-illustration-of-a)!
> 
> Chapter title from “Once a Sailor” by Valdy, which is the only song used as a title that isn’t on the playlist because there is shamefully little Valdy music on Spotify and I’m angry, so [here it is on YouTube instead](https://youtu.be/WGNL24XB2m0).
> 
> _Still you might’ve been a sailor_
> 
> _Spent your whole damn life at sea_
> 
> _But only crazy fools and failures_
> 
> _Ever dare to live that free_

Davenport was just finishing tying the Starblaster to the dock when he heard him. “Well, well!” Merle shouted from the shore. He was waving at Davenport, his arm making a wide arc in the air. Davenport couldn’t see from this distance, but he was sure he was grinning. “Fancy seeing you here, Cap’n!”

Shaking his head, Davenport stuck one hand in his pocket and slung his bag over his shoulder before heading towards Merle. “Today’s the eighth, isn’t it?” he said when he reached him. “I said I’d be back today. _You_ said you’d meet me here today.”

Merle’s beard was in desperate need of a trim, covering most of his face, but you could tell he was smiling from his eye even when you couldn’t see his mouth. There was a distinct twinkle to it, and his crow’s feet would crinkle up. “So I did!” He grabbed Davenport up in a sudden hug, making him yell in surprise. “Good to see you, Dav!”

Davenport squirmed and pushed Merle back, straightening his jacket. “Well. Yes. Thank you. You, too.” He hated how flustered Merle always made him feel. He was just always so open with his affections—with everyone, not just Davenport. Even after all the years they’d known each other, it still threw him for a loop, especially if he hadn’t seen him for a while. “Thank you for taking care of my apartment while I was away.”

Merle scoffed, following Davenport as he started to walk off in the direction of their apartment building. “Hey, it’s no problem. You know I don’t mind. How’re things on the open ocean?”

The corners of Davenport’s mouth turned up in a small smile. “Beautiful, as always. The Stillwater Sea is gorgeous this time of year.” He glanced over at Merle from the corner of his eye. “You really should come with me sometime,” he said, knowing full well what his answer would be.

Sure enough, Merle shrugged and scratched his chin through his beard. “Ah, maybe not. Got the church to think about and all that.” He nudged Davenport. “And who’d look after our plants if we’re both off at sea, eh?”

“Lucretia would do a fine job,” Davenport said. They had this conversation every time Davenport came back from one of his excursions at sea. Merle always gave the same excuses—the church, the plants, the kids. Davenport always gave the same rebuttal—all those things would be fine without him for a few days. On some level, he understood Merle’s reticence. Boat travel wasn’t for everybody. But on the other hand, he was sure something else was going on, and there was a part of Davenport that was irked that Merle wouldn’t confide in him. He was being ridiculous, of course. Merle was entitled to his privacy. But it still bothered him.

“Lucy’s got enough on her plate as it is.” Merle held the door to their building open for Davenport, giving him a mock bow. Davenport chuckled as he went through. “Anyway, welcome home!”

Looking at Merle, Davenport couldn’t help but feel that he’d already been home the moment he saw Merle’s face. He squashed the feeling and hid it away in the deepest, darkest part of himself, where he hid all such stupid things.

~~~

Davenport did his best to slip into Taako and Lup’s apartment without causing a huge fuss, but to no avail. Lucretia was next to him in seconds. “You’re here! It’s good to see you, Davenport.”

He smiled up at her. He didn’t like people making a big deal over him, but Lucretia was one of his favourite people to talk to. She was an excellent listener, and he always did his best to return the favour when she was having problems. “Good to see you, too. How’s the new biography coming?”

She sighed, sinking into the couch like she was suddenly made of lead. “Exhaustingly. This is one of the most difficult clients I’ve ever worked with.” She brightened. “But enough about that. How was your trip? Any new photos?”

As Davenport was pulling out his phone to show her the picture he’d taken of the sunrise a few days ago, Barry stuck his head into the living room. “Oh, hey, you’re here. Hi.” Before Davenport could greet him, he turned and shouted back into the kitchen, “HEY TAAKO, CAPN’PORT’S HERE!”

“RAD!” Taako’s voice answered, just as loud. “TELL HIM AND LUCRETIA THEY’D BETTER GET IN HERE AND HELP SET THE TABLE IF THEY WANNA BE FED!”

Barry turned back to them. “Taako says—”

“Yes, we heard him,” Lucretia sighed, standing gracefully up from the couch. “I’m fairly certain the entire building heard him.”

Davenport followed Barry into the kitchen. Taako was stirring something that smelled absolutely divine on the stove. Lup had clambered onto the counter to pull something down from the top shelf, and Julia was holding her steady. Magnus was mashing potatoes with more gusto than strictly necessary. Merle already had a half-full wine glass in one hand and was pouring more glasses with the other. He caught Davenport’s eye and smiled, offering him one. Davenport suppressed the sudden urge to start coughing, instead shaking his head and heading for the silverware drawer.

It was chaotic, with so many of them all crammed into such a small space, but it was a tradition. They’d been getting together at Lup and Taako’s apartment for dinner every Sunday night for six years. He couldn’t remember exactly how it started—it might have been to celebrate Lup’s new job, or Magnus’s first carving sale, or just because Taako had been having a moment and wanted his whole family around him. But whatever the reason, it was something that worked for them and so they continued doing it, even after Magnus got married, and Merle got divorced, and Davenport retired and started spending more time on his boat than off it. Some of them weren’t there every time—like Davenport—but they all always made the effort to show up when they could.

Taako smacked Merle’s hand away from the salad. “Welcome back, by the way,” he said over his shoulder to Davenport. “You’re—MERLE KNOCK IT OFF.” He elbowed Merle away from the counter, glancing exasperatedly at Davenport. “Control your boyfriend, homie.”

Davenport sputtered. “He isn’t my—Merle, stop that. Come here.” He grabbed Merle’s wrist and dragged him over to the table, where there was no food for him to steal, and shoved a fistful of forks at him. “Give me a hand here.”

“You’re no fun anymore,” Merle sighed, and Davenport chuckled. Merle’s eyes were crinkled again, so he knew he wasn’t really upset with him. Davenport liked seeing Merle happy. It felt like the balance of the universe was restored when Merle was in a good mood.

A hand landed heavily on his shoulder and he flinched, suddenly realizing he’d just spent several long moments staring at Merle’s face instead of doing literally anything else. “Good to see you, Capn’port!” Magnus said. “You staying long this time?”

He cleared his throat and turned to face Magnus. People were starting to sit at the table as Taako and Lup brought over plates piled with chicken and gravy and potatoes and salad. “Yes, well. I haven’t decided yet. It might just be a short visit and then right back out there, with how good the weather is right now.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merle sag a bit, lose some of the twinkle in his eye. But he blinked, and Merle was back to his usual self, so maybe he’d just imagined it.

~~~

“These are beautiful,” Lucretia said, swiping through Davenport’s phone gallery. They were in her apartment the next day, sitting on her couch. He hadn’t gotten an opportunity to show her his new photographs at dinner the night before, so he’d come over to visit. She smiled at him as he sipped his tea. “Is it alright if I send myself some of them to put up?”

He waved vaguely. “If you really want to, sure.” Lucretia’s apartment was fairly minimalist, with only as much furniture as she needed. She kept it incredibly tidy, which Davenport could appreciate, especially compared with Merle and the twins’ apartments. But even then, she was still an art lover and she always made space in her home for it, whether it was something she’d painted on her own time or something her friends had created. She already had a few of Davenport’s photos framed in her kitchen, along with several of Magnus’s ducks lining the top of a bookshelf and a beach landscape she’d painted a few years ago above the couch. And, of course, her friend Johann’s violin music drifted quietly from a small speaker on her desk.

Her fingers tapped the screen as she sent his pictures to her phone. “By the way,” has Merle talked to you about the dance yet?”

Davenport choked on his tea and spent an embarrassing moment catching his breath. “No,” he rasped. Dance? What dance? Why would Merle be asking him about going dancing?

She looked vaguely bemused. “I didn’t think so. Well, I’m sure he’ll bring it up himself sooner or later. There’s a youth dance at his church in a few days.” Davenport nodded. It definitely made more sense than what he’d been thinking. He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as Lucretia continued talking. “He asked me if I’d chaperone with him, but I have a meeting with the Bureau that night.” She spoke regretfully, but Davenport knew she’d rather go to her meeting. She was the founder and director of a humanitarian organization called the Bureau of Benevolence, and she was more proud of her work through that than anything else she’d ever done. “But anyway, he said he’d probably ask you when you got back. It’s on Wednesday.”

Davenport thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think I have anything going on.”

Lucretia handed him his phone. “You should go. I think it’d be good for you to get out more.”

He frowned. “Not this again.”

“Yes this again. It’s important for you to make meaningful relationships with your peers. You can’t just go between your apartment and the ocean every few weeks.”

“Sure I can,” Davenport said sullenly, knowing full well he sounded like a grumpy old man. The worst part was that Lucretia was right, and they both knew it. Back when Davenport was in the air force, he didn’t have much going on outside his work. He’d poured himself into it, and it was his whole life. Then when he retired, there wasn’t much there for him—just the Starblaster, and the few people in his building that he knew. Like Merle.

It wasn’t _lonely_. He loved Lucretia and Magnus and Barry and everybody, and they loved him, even if they had strange ways of showing it most of the time. He liked to be by himself. That’s why he went running off to sea so much. But there was always a part of him that wondered what if things were different, what if someone came with him sometimes, what if he stuck around longer and built on those relationships more.

Lucretia fixed him with a hard look. “Davenport. You and Merle are good for each other.”

He held up a hand, knowing exactly what she was talking about. “I’ll thank you to stop there. I know what you think, Lucretia, and I appreciate your…interest in my happiness. But Merle and I are good friends and nothing else. I’d never jeopardize that by having romantic feelings for him.” He swallowed thickly. His throat was dry for some reason. He took another sip of his tea.

She nodded absently, leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand. “I know. I just think the two of you should spend more time together. You’re a grounding force for him, you know. More than you think. And I never see you smile more than you do while you’re with him.” She smiled, leaning back. “Well. That’s my expert opinion, anyway. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But I really do think getting out more couldn’t hurt.”

~~~

Davenport adjusted his bow tie. “I can’t help but feel like I’m overdressed.”

Merle patted him on the back. He was wearing cargo shorts, green flip flops, and a gaudy tropical shirt covered in cartoon flowers. Not for the first time, Davenport wished he hadn’t assumed a teen dance would be a full Sunday best type affair, even if it was being held in a church, and worn something other than his best suit. “Maybe a little! It’s fine, though, don’t worry about it. I’d say you’re the best dressed guy here!” Davenport chuckled and ducked his head in thanks. “Thanks for coming out tonight, by the way. I really appreciate it.” Merle gestured to the small crowd of teens. “It can be tough to get folks from the congregation out to stuff like this. Usually it’s just me and a couple gals from the Community Outreach Committee.”

“Of course; it’s no problem.” Davenport looked out over the tiny church basement, which had been converted a few hours prior into a makeshift dance floor. “So what exactly do I do? Wander around the dance floor and make sure the teens are, ah, ‘leaving room for Jesus?’”

Merle laughed, a big, bawdy guffaw, and Davenport felt his face getting warm. “Well, sort of! Just keep an eye on everyone; make sure nobody’s doing everything they shouldn’t. If you need a break, just let me or Cassidy over there know.” He pointed out a large woman in overalls standing next to the punch bowl, watching anyone who approached it like a hawk. “And hey, if you feel like dancing, get on out there!”

Davenport shook his head, chuckling. “No, thank you. I think I’ll leave that to the teens.”

The first hour or so went over fairly well, for the most part. There were only a couple dozen teens in the first place, so it was easy to keep tabs on them, and they were pretty well behaved aside from a few rowdy boys. As more people started to arrive, though, the music kept getting turned up in order to be heard over everyone. Soon Davenport’s head was throbbing in time with the beat, and he had to shout to hear himself. He hurried over to Cassidy, whose voice was much louder than his, and managed to communicate that he was going outside for a quick break before walking quickly to the door.

After he’d chased a few vaping ruffians away, Davenport sat on the church steps and ran a hand through his hair. He’d already abandoned his suit jacket, but now he undid the buttons of his vest and rolled up his shirtsleeves. He hadn’t expected it to be so warm in there, and the cool night air was refreshing on his skin. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to take in the breeze. From here, he could almost smell the salt air of the ocean rolling in off the port.

At a choked noise from beside him, he opened his eyes. Merle was standing in the doorway, staring at him in awe. Davenport felt that familiar warmth crawling into his chest again and stomped it back down. “Is something the matter?” he asked.

Merle seemed to shake himself before shooting him a grin and coming to sit next to him on the step. “Nah, just taking a break. Our last chaperone finally got here, thank Christ. Figured I’d join you.”

“I’d be glad for the company.” Davenport looked out towards the street. There weren’t many cars out at this time of night. It was quiet. Peaceful. He always forgot, whenever he went away, how much he missed just sitting and _being_ with Merle. Lucretia had been right, as she often was. He’d needed something like this.

They sat in silence for a while before Merle broke it. “I won’t ask you to stay.”

Davenport looked over at him, brow furrowed. “What? No, I said I’d be here until the end, and then help pack up.”

“I don’t mean that.” Merle looked tired, suddenly, and he wasn’t looking at Davenport while he spoke. “The ocean—the Starblaster—that all means as much to you as this rinky-dink little congregation means to me. I’d never ask you to give that up.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Merle blew a raspberry and leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky. “Ah, forget it. It’s not important.”

“No, Merle, please.” Davenport leaned forward, trying to get into Merle’s line of sight, to make Merle _look at him_, goddamnit. “It was important enough that you brought it up at all. If something’s bothering you, I want you to tell me.”

Merle had trimmed his beard for the dance, so Davenport could see his mouth was smiling. But it didn’t make his eye twinkle, didn’t deepen the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Davenport’s heart sank. “It’s fine. Like I said, I’d never ask you to—when you go off to sea, when you leave, I—I don’t know, I guess I miss you or something.” There was something purposefully gruff to his voice. Merle was putting on airs, covering up something genuine with self-deprecation. “And maybe I wish you’d stick around longer, or come home more often, or whatever, but—look, like I said. I’d never ask you to choose. I won’t ask you to stay. I don’t want this place to be your cage just because I’m kinda sad sometimes or whatever. I’m—whatever. It’s fine.”

“It’s _not_ fine.” Davenport was practically leaning overtop of Merle now, getting much closer into his space than he’d normally be comfortable with. But Merle was hardly ever this cagey. He was an open book most of the time. And now he wouldn’t even look at Davenport? Unacceptable. “Merle, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Exactly!” Merle said, finally looking Davenport in the face. “We’re friends! And friends don’t—don’t fuck up that friendship with dumb shit! They don’t do stuff that’ll make the other person regret being friends with you at all, because you screw up everything you touch if you stick around long enough!”

“That isn’t true!” Davenport protested. “You—Merle Highchurch, you’ve done more for this church than any other reverend they’ve ever had! Your kids still love you and want to spend time with you even after everything that happened with the divorce! And—and Taako and Lup and Magnus and everyone else—they all care about you, and they’ve stuck by you through more shit than anyone else except—” He faltered. God, he really was all up in Merle’s personal space and yelling at him about his good points, wasn’t he?

Merle lifted his right hand and laid it against Davenport’s cheek. The cool plastic of his prosthetic was a welcome relief to his suddenly burning face. “Except you,” he finished quietly.

“Right,” Davenport said, somewhat dazed. “Except me.” He took a shaky breath. “I care about you too, Merle, please never think that I don’t. I know—I know I’m away a lot, but I’m always thinking about you. I’m always thinking about _home_. It’s just that when I’m _here_, I’m always thinking about _there_. I’m a man of two worlds. I have been for so long.”

“And I’d never make you choose.” Merle’s smile still hadn’t reached his eye. “But it’s nice to know I’m on your mind out there.”

“I’m always thinking about you.” The words came easily, and they startled Davenport, but that didn’t make them untrue. “You—my apartment is where I live, but you’re my home. I think you have been for a long time.”

Merle studied Davenport’s face for a long moment. “I don’t want to wreck our friendship.”

Davenport was not a young man. He had been in love before. He knew what it was, how it felt. And he knew, in this moment, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that he was in love with Merle, and had been ignoring the signs because it was easy. It was so much easier than confronting them. But all the feelings and impulses Davenport had ever stomped down or shunted away or just straight up ignored came flooding through him, and he was almost dizzy.

“Then I will,” he said.

He kissed Merle.

It was short, and Merle’s lips were chapped and dry, and when Davenport moved back again he suddenly felt nauseous. What had he just done? He’d just impulsively kissed his best friend. What if that wasn’t what Merle had been talking about? What if he’d read the signs wrong? Oh God he’d ruined their friendship for nothing, for feelings he didn’t fully understand yet because he’d been avoiding them, he was a shitty friend and Merle was going to kill him—

The corners of Merle’s arms crinkled as he pulled Davenport into a second kiss. Davenport’s heart absolutely sang as he wrapped his arms around Merle’s shoulders into the kiss. This was it. This was what he wanted.

Now, for the first time in forever, he was well and truly _home_.

“Reverend!”

The two of them sprang apart like guilty teenagers, Davenport scrabbling back on his hands and feet to put as much distance between himself and Merle as possible. It didn’t help much, because the short, squat woman in the doorway was glaring at the two of them with her hands on her hips. “You two have been up here for _twenty minutes_,” she snapped, “doing _exactly_ what we’ve been trying to keep the kids from doing! Cassidy and I would like our _own_ breaks, if you would _kindly_ get back to your shifts!”

Davenport scrambled to his feet, stammering apologies. Merle rose more slowly, stretching his arms over his head. “Be right down, Brogden. Sorry about that.”

She disappeared back into the church with one last reproachful look at them. Davenport was shaking. This was—it was a lot and now he was supposed to just go back to being a chaperone like nothing had happened when in fact _everything_ had just happened. “How—what now?” he asked.

Merle took his hand, smiling with his whole face, and led them back into the church. “For now? Nothing. Brogden’s right; we do have something we’re supposed to be doing. But once we’re done? I vote we go grab some alone time.”

Davenport nodded. “I’m—this is all moving very fast. I didn’t—there’s a lot we need to talk about, I think.” He wanted this. God, he wanted it so much he felt like his heart would burst.

Merle grinned, and his eye had that shine to it that Davenport loved. “Well, you’re a smart man, Dav. We’ll figure it out, right?”

“Of course.” Davenport leaned against Merle.

Of course.

[ ](https://divinelark.tumblr.com/post/188195169176/divinelark-image-description-a-digital)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * “Once a Sailor” is THE Davenport song for me, and also contains the line “so you say you would’ve been a free-ramblin’ man/but some lover hid your travellin’ shoes/only God could love a gambler/who tries that hard to lose” Valdy is absolutely not here for your “ol’ ball and chain” bullshit
>   * For some reason, remembering to write Merle with a prosthetic arm is way easier than remembering to write him with only one eye, despite having a framed picture of Merle wearing an eyepatch in direct line of sight of my computer. Don’t ask why I have that.
>   * I cannot believe that the reference to “Lucretia’s friend Johann’s violin music” is the only time Johann comes up in this fic. I abandoned my boy
>   * I love writing old love. I don’t really get much opportunity to do so because I’m a fool and a coward, but I really like writing about characters who have been around the block a few times and know the ropes, but are still hesitant about starting a new relationship. I love these shitty old men in love.


	5. I Looked to You as It Fell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako has a meet ugly, regrets his entire existence, and for some reason thinks telling Lup about it will solve literally anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has TWO art pieces by Squid and Juno! Go check them out and give them some love!  
Squid: [[Tumblr](https://squidink-spaghetti.tumblr.com/post/188191164880/i-just-cant-sleep-would-you-talk-to-me)] [[Twitter](https://twitter.com/squidinkspag/status/1181198776142356480?s=20)]  
Juno: [[Tumblr](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188196416165/my-second-piece-for-the-tazbang-once-again)] [[Twitter](https://twitter.com/lumiosegym/status/1181282376019673088?s=20%22)]
> 
> Chapter title from "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen.
> 
> _I threw a wish in a well_
> 
> _Don't ask me, I'll never tell_
> 
> _I looked to you as it fell_
> 
> _And now you're in my way_

Taako’s work bag was heavy. He adjusted it again, rolling his shoulder to loosen it and give it a quick break. Goddamn stupid ugly work uniform. There was no way he was being seen in public wearing a lime green polo shirt for any longer than strictly necessary. Unfortunately, that meant having to walk to and from work carrying extra clothes every day, but sacrifices had to be made sometimes. His dignity demanded it. Why couldn’t they wear black like every other coffee shop? He looked like he worked at an amusement park.

He turned a corner and continued down the street, scrolling through the group chat he had set up with Lup and Barry. Before Barry moved in, he and Lup had just texted each other if they needed something. Now that there were three of them living together, though, it was easier just to have a group chat. Even if two of the people in said group chat a) were dating and b) worked together, and so were sitting next to each other texting each other memes like fucking dorks more often than not.

From the looks of things, they’d been doing exactly that while he was working his ass off at the stupid coffee shop. He always checked it on his way home in case they asked him to pick up, like, milk or some shit, but today they’d just been sending each other increasingly incomprehensible science memes. Taako shook his head. Why did he even bother?

He hopped a stone wall and started cutting straight through the cemetery. Some people (Barold) were superstitious as hell about graveyards, but Taako figured if he wasn’t haunted already he wasn’t going to get haunted at all, and therefore he didn’t really care that much. It was just a cemetery. Barring sudden zombie outbreak, the worst that’d happen here at three in the afternoon would be running into some mourners, who Taako would respectfully give a wide berth. He wasn’t so big of a jerk to walk right through a funeral procession.

Taako’s foot met with empty air where there should have been solid dirt, and he yanked it back so hard he toppled over backwards with a yell, arms flailing. Right in front of him, where he was about to walk without really looking, was an open grave. He swallowed. That could’ve gone a lot worse. Maybe Merle was right about the whole walking while texting thing. Gross. Carefully, he picked himself up and checked himself over. Nothing hurt but his pride, and he’d gotten dirt on his new pants, but that’d come out in the wash. Taako looked around, but apparently nobody was nearby to have seen him eat shit. Kind of weird that someone would dig a grave and then just leave it, but it probably meant there was a funeral about to happen soon, so he figured he’d better skedaddle.

He went to pick up his phone and realized it wasn’t in the grass where he fell. Heart sinking, he peeked over the edge of the hole. There was no coffin in it (thank _Christ_), but a small rectangle of glass glinted in the sun. Taako groaned and sank to his knees. Of fucking course. Nothing in his life could ever be simple, huh?

Taako did another quick look around. Still no one. Muttering under his breath about how _bullshit_ his life was, he set his bag aside and steeled himself. He slid down the side of the hole to the bottom of the grave before he could convince himself it was a bad idea. Quickly, he snatched up his phone and shoved it into his pocket. There. Step one done. Now all he had to do was get out.

Looking around, he figured his best bet would be to start at the head of the grave and do a running jump to grab the other edge. This was fine. It’d be fine! He used to do gymnastics when he was what, like, six? He was a goddamn flip wizard back in the day! No sweat.

Taako backed up, ran, and flung himself at the top of the grave, just barely managing to grab ahold of the edge. He started to pull himself up when he saw, directly in front of him, a pair of very nice shoes.

A man cleared his throat.

Taako shrieked, lost his grip, and fell back into the hole.

“Are you alright?” The man’s voice was deep, clear, and concerned. Taako scrambled to his feet. Fuck. This was not part of the plan. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just—”

He peeked over the edge and Taako got a good look at him for the first time.

He was the dictionary definition of tall, dark, and handsome, wearing a fancy suit and tied-back dreadlocks and a concerned expression. He had sharp cheekbones and full lips and dark, soft eyes, and he was by far _the_ most handsome man Taako had ever seen.

And Taako was standing in an open grave, covered in dirt.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and did his best to act casual. “Oh, sure, y’know. I love climbing around in dirt. Favourite hobby.”

The man looked sheepish. “I—sorry, I’m—no, hold on.” He frowned, sitting back on his knees and folding his arms. “Why were you in there in the first place?”

“What’s it to you?” Taako shot back. “This your grave, ghost man?”

“I’m not—I’m not a _ghost_,” he said, sounding vaguely offended. He looked like he wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, which, Taako thought, looking around at where he was standing, was probably more than fair. “I’m a _funeral director_. I left—I was gone for _ten minutes_ and I come back to find some _hooligan_ clambering around in the grave we’re going to put a casket into not a half hour from now!” His distinguished British accent got thicker and more pronounced as his voice rose in agitation.

“Hey,” Taako started, pointing accusingly up at him, and then realized that he had no defense. “You’re right.” The man blinked, clearly not expecting that response. “Can you, like, let me come out now? I don’t know if you noticed but my first attempt was, uh, kind of a resounding failure.”

The man stared for a long moment, then threw his head back and laughed. Taako squirmed, unsure if he was being laughed _at_ or laughed _with_, but damn if his laugh wasn’t as attractive as the rest of him. Still chuckling, the man stuck his hand down into the pit. “Sure, come on out. I’m Kravitz.”

The words “I’m gay” nearly slipped out of Taako’s mouth, but he gripped Kravitz’s hand and flashed him a lopsided grin. “The name’s Taako.”

Kravitz grunted, and then Taako was yanked up and out of the grave, landing clumsily next to him. “Nice to meet you,” Kravitz said, dusting himself off. He was still basically pristine, which wasn’t _fair_. “Now, care to explain what you were doing in there?”

Taako gingerly rose to his feet and wiped his hands on his pants. It didn’t help, but it wasn’t like his pants could get any worse at this point. “Not much to explain, my dude.” He pulled out his phone and held it up. “Wasn’t watching where I was going, dropped this in your precious grave, went in after it. Hachi machi, you’d think I was a grave robber or something.”

Kravitz backed up a step. “No, of course not—there’s nothing to steal anyway, just—well, we generally don’t endorse people clambering around in open graves in my business.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” Taako moved to grab his bag, but Kravitz got there first, handing it to him with a smile. “Uh, thanks.” This was awkward now. What did he do? Crack a joke? Ask for his number? Walk away and pretend the whole thing never happened? The longer the silence stretched on, the better the third option started looking.

He was opening his mouth to say _something_ when Kravitz looked at something over Taako’s shoulder. “Oh, uh, you should probably get going,” he said. Taako turned to check behind him. A woman was coming towards them, wearing a suit nearly identical to Kravitz’s. “My boss,” he explained. “I’ll, ah. I’ll see you around, maybe, Taako?”

Taako froze. It was probably just lip service, he told himself. Kravitz didn’t _actually_ plan on seeing him again. “Yeah, sure,” he said flippantly. “Have fun with your dead guys.”

Kravitz’s laughter followed him out of the cemetery. Taako wanted to crawl back into the grave and stay there.

~~~

“Lup, my beautiful darling sister whomst I adore,” Taako shouted as he walked into the apartment. Neither Lup or Barry were anywhere in direct sight of the door. “Stop making out with your boyfriend and come comfort your favourite brother in his time of crisis.”

“Jesus, Taako, what the fuck,” Lup called from the kitchen. “Barry isn’t even home. What do you want?”

Taako tossed his work bag on the couch and kicked his shoes onto the heap of footwear piled high on the shoe mat. Barry had tried, bless his heart, to sort them into some semblance of order when he moved in. It hadn’t worked. Taako wandered into the kitchen and flopped in one of the empty chairs at the table. Lup turned from where she was just finishing putting away the dishes, one eyebrow raised. “Well, you look like shit. What happened to you?”

“Thanks, love you too.” Taako sighed dramatically and leaned his chin on his hand. “Lup, I’m so fucking _gay_.”

“Yeah, I know, we’ve been over that.” Lup turned away from him to start fussing about with the kettle. “What does that have to do with being covered in dirt?”

Taako leaned back against the wall and started taking his hair out of its braid. It wasn’t crazy thick like Magnus’s, but it was thick enough that he had to at least finger comb it before washing it or it’d be impossible to brush after, and he definitely needed a shower after his day. “Ran into a _super hot_ guy in the graveyard on my way home today,” he explained to Lup’s back. She continued futzing around at the counter, preparing the teapot and mugs, but her face was still turned slightly towards him, indicating she was still listening. “Except he’s, like, this cool funeral director guy who definitely has his life more put together than me and I also definitely fell into an open grave in front of him.”

Lup, the traitorous bitch, started laughing so hard she had to sit down. Taako glared at her. “It’s not funny,” he snapped, even though he knew if she’d met Barry like this he would’ve laughed too.

Still chortling, Lup shook her head and covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh man, Taako, you could not _possibly_ have beefed that any worse. Holy _shit_.”

He threw up his hands. “I mean I was _already_ in the grave because I dropped my _phone_ in it! What was I supposed to do? He wasn’t there when I went in! How was I supposed to know there’d be this fucking beautiful man staring down at me when I tried to get out?”

“No, no, that’s—holy _shit_, Taako,” she laughed, fanning her face as she calmed down. “You just have the absolute _worst_ luck with dudes, huh?”

“Well we can’t all meet our dream guy at work and then spend fuckin’ _years_ mutually mooning over each other before speedrunning the rest of the relationship.” Taako scowled at her, but there was no real malice in it. Barry was a good guy—one of his best friends—and Taako would never begrudge Lup the happiness he brought her, his own anxieties about being replaced aside. But, well, he was still her big brother, and he had to make fun of her sometimes or they’d take his twin license away.

The kettle clicked off and Lup stood to finish making tea. “You _could_ if you’d stop second guessing yourself about everything.” She shot a pointed look over her shoulder at him, which he ignored. “Taako.” She set the teapot on the table and grabbed his face in her hands, squashing his cheeks. “You’re a funny, smart guy with good looks and the skills to back them up.” He scoffed, and she squished his face harder. “Taako. I’m your big sister. I want you to be _happy_.”

“You’re my _baby_ sister, and I _am_ happy,” Taako said, batting her hands away so he could talk properly. “I don’t _need_ a boyfriend to be happy! I mean, one would be nice, don’t get me wrong here. And I’m not saying that if I’d met this dude under better circumstances we’d be like picking out wedding dates or whatever. Just, you know. It suuuuucked.”

Lup laughed again, plopping back in her seat. “Yeah, it sounds like it.” She poured them each a cup of tea, pushing one towards him. “So? Spill. How hot was he?”

~~~

Most people Taako knew would call him a picky eater. He wasn’t. So sue him if he was _particular_. It came from a life of preparing all his own food. He knew what he liked and what he didn’t. There were very few people he trusted to do it the way he liked it.

One of those people, fortunately, was his good friend Ren. Taako stepped into her restaurant and breathed in the heavy smell of grease. The Davy Lamp wasn’t exactly what most people would call a high-end establishment, but while Taako was particular, he definitely wasn’t pretentious. Sometimes Lup and Barry were working late, and it wasn’t Friday so Ango wasn’t coming, and Taako just didn’t feel like cooking for himself, and the Davy Lamp was right across the street from his apartment, and Ren was the only person who could make meatloaf almost as well as him. So he wound up there a fair bit. Whatever.

“Oh my god, Taako!” Ren waved at him from behind the counter the minute the door shut behind him. It was a good hour and a half after the general dinner rush, so there weren’t many people in the place. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” she continued when he sauntered up to the counter. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know, same as usual.” Taako shrugged and hopped up on one of the bar stools that lined the counter. “Finally put up that risotto video I’ve been talking about for months; that’s helping pay some bills. I still come home from work stinking like mediocre coffee every day, but at least I’ve got that going for me.”

The smile dropped off Ren’s face at the mention of Taako’s Actual Official Job. “Still at Jim’s, huh?” She sighed, leaning on the counter. “You know if I could afford to I’d hire you in a second.”

“Eh, it’s the thought that counts there, hon.” He shrugged. The Davy Lamp did well enough, but he hadn’t become friends with Ren until after she’d hired all her staff. She couldn’t afford to hire him as another cook, and she wasn’t going to fire anyone just so her friend could work with her. She’d always made it clear he had a job there if one ever came available, though. “How about you?” he asked. He waved vaguely, indicating the rest of the greasy spoon. “How’s the ol’ Lamp?”

Ren brightened. “Going great, actually? We’re finally going to be able to replace some of the booth seats.” She gestured at the booths, several of which were more duct tape than anything else. “And Ash found us a new fryer online for only sixty-nine bucks!”

“Nice,” Taako said immediately.

She laughed and swatted his arm. “Turd. What’ll I get you?”

Taako opened his mouth to say “meatloaf” when he got distracted by the sound of the door opening. Ren looked past his shoulder. “Welcome!” she said, immediately putting on her customer service voice. Taako raised his eyebrows. Not a regular, then. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she added.

“No, that’s alright,” said a lightly accented, vaguely familiar man’s voice. “I’ll need a minute to decide, anyway.”

Taako turned to see who it was and nearly fell off his seat. It was Kravitz, the funeral director he’d made an absolute idiot of himself in front of literally two days ago. He turned away quickly, putting his back to him and shielding his face with his hand. What the fuck was he _doing_ he should be turning on the charm and trying to make a better impression and instead he was sitting here being as conspicuous as possible he was such an idiot—

“Taako, are you good?” Ren asked. “You—do you need a minute to decide?”

“Taako?” Kravitz said next to him, and oh good he _recognized_ him now, fucking fantastic.

“Meatloaf,” Taako blurted. “And that weird lime milkshake, and—fuck it, can I get some of those cheese fries you make? It’s a meatloaf and cheese fries night.”

Ren nodded slowly, her eyes concerned but the rest of her face carefully neutral. “Sure, no problem.” She turned to Kravitz and flashed a customer service smile. “I’ll be right back, sir.”

Kravitz nodded. “Take your time.”

Taako wanted to scream _no don’t take your time if you abandon me out here by myself with this guy for longer than necessary I’m never coming here again_, but that would be stupid and also a lie. Nothing short of threats of imminent death would keep him away from Ren’s cheese fries. She made them with _actual cheese_.

Ren disappeared into the kitchen with another smile for Kravitz and a worried glance at Taako. Kravitz didn’t say anything for a long minute, instead clasping his hands in front of himself, then letting them hang loose at his sides and finally shoving them in the pockets of his suit jacked before clearing his throat. “Hello again.”

Taako turned to him, smiling and hoping it didn’t seem forced. “Heyyyyy, Kravitz, right? Good to see you.” It _was_ good to see Kravitz, despite everything. He’d definitely thought about what might happen if he ran into him again over the last couple days. None of it had involved making an idiot out of himself a second time in a row, but here they were, and Kravitz was at least being polite.

And, well. It certainly helped that he was easy on the eyes.

“Likewise.” Kravitz smiled at him. “Staying out of trouble?”

Taako scoffed. “What kind of person do you take me for? Absolutely not.”

Kravitz chuckled and Taako swallowed. God, he’d forgotten about his nice laugh. This _sucked_. “That’s fair, I suppose.” He gestured to the stool next to Taako. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

“It’s a free country, handsome, go right ahead.” Taako shrugged, hoping his panic didn’t show. Kravitz was settling in for the long haul with this conversation. It was fine, this was fine. Kravitz was just…a normal guy. A normal, incredibly handsome guy whose only other point of reference with Taako was the one time he caught him climbing out of an open grave. No big. As long as Taako treated him just like any other dude, it’d all work out fine. Probably. At least that was what Lup always tried to tell him. Besides, Kravitz was being pretty casual about the whole thing. Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as Taako was making it out to be in his head. Damn his anxiety.

Kravitz cleared his throat again and slid onto the seat beside him, head ducked almost demurely. “Well, yes. I, um.” He drummed his fingers on the countertop. Taako briefly waffled between politely waiting for him to gather his thoughts and muscling forward with the conversation, but thankfully Kravitz made the choice for him. “So, you’re here often, then?” he asked. “What would you recommend?”

“Pretty much everything.” Taako looked up at the large chalkboard menu on the wall, glad for the topic change even if it was somewhat cliché. “Uh, I don’t know how you feel about beef, but Ren’s meatloaf is the best comfort food if I don’t feel like cooking myself.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I tend to avoid meet unless I’m preparing it myself, or one of my mothers is. There’s rarely a guarantee that it’s kosher.” Taako glanced over at Kravitz and saw him gazing up at the menu, chin in one hand. He had an unfairly gorgeous profile. “The full English breakfast sounds good, if I can get the bacon and sausage removed.”

Taako unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Breakfast for dinner, hell yeah,” he said. “I mean, Ren’s pretty good about dietary restrictions and shit. Like, she always tells me when there’s peanuts in shit because I’m allergic. You can probably just ask.”

Kravitz smiled at him. “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

“Sure, yeah, cool.” Taako clenched his hands and tried not to fidget. He wanted Lup here. At the same time, though, while she was a great safety blanket, she was also a shit disturber. She’d absolutely start bombarding Kravitz with embarrassing questions. “So, uh. Funeral director, huh? How’d you land in that business?”

Okay, maybe he didn’t need Lup to ask embarrassing shit. He was doing just fine there by himself.

Thankfully, Kravitz didn’t seem too annoyed. It was probably a question he got a lot. He shrugged and ran a hand through his dreads, shaking them out. “Family business, mostly. My mother has run Queen’s Funeral Services for as long as anyone can remember, and it was always just…assumed, I suppose, that I would follow in her footsteps. Don’t misunderstand me; I like the work.” He smiled ruefully. “That sounds morbid, I suppose.”

“A little, yeah.” Taako grinned as Kravitz shook his head, chuckling. “But hey, whatever floats your boat, my man. I’m not here to yuck anyone’s yum.”

Kravitz laughed out loud at that, covering his mouth with one hand and throwing his head back. “Yuck anyone’s—Taako, what do you think I _do_, exactly?”

Ren arrived with Taako’s milkshake at that moment. “Sorry for the wait, boys,” she said, hurriedly snatching some empty coffee mugs from the counter behind her. “Turns out Ash’s cheap fryer isn’t quite as nice as we thought.” She turned to Kravitz. “Made a decision yet, hon?”

Kravitz ordered and Taako tuned it out, sucking down his key lime milkshake. The conversation was going okay so far. At least, he hadn’t made a total fool of himself yet. Kravitz hadn’t decided he wanted to go eat by himself or anything.

It was only a matter of time before he inevitably fucked up, but hey. So far so good.

“How about you?” Kravitz asked as Ren rushed off to the kitchen again. “What do you do when you’re not clambering around in open graves?”

Oh, good, they were at the stage where they could joke about that already. That was a good sign. Taako flipped his ponytail over one shoulder. “Oh, you know. I’m Taako. You know, from TV?”

Kravitz stared at him blankly. “I…do you work in journalism?”

“Ha ha, no.” Taako stirred his milkshake. “I have an internet cooking show. I just say ‘from TV’ because it’s easier to explain to most folks. And then, like, also, I have a shit job at the Jim’s Coffee down on Third that pays the rest of the bills, because internet cooking shows don’t exactly bring in that good good cash money.” Magnus had been trying to convince him to start a Patreon for his show, but he didn’t know what that would even look like, really.

“No, I don’t suppose they do,” mused Kravitz. He was leaning on the counter, gazing at Taako thoughtfully. “What’s your show called? I could check it out.”

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to—”

“No, no, it sounds interesting!” Kravitz was smiling at him again _God_ he was handsome. And sweet and well put together and he said Taako’s show sounded _interesting_ and ugh this wasn’t _fair_. “What’s it called?”

“Sizzle It Up.” Taako was going to melt if Kravitz kept looking at him like that. “I, uh, got an apron made for it one time. It’s pretty sweet.”

“It sounds like it.” Ren appeared from the back with their food, winked at Taako, and disappeared off to wipe down some tables. Taako grumbled internally at being abandoned to his fate of having an incredibly attractive man be nice to him. Some friend she was. “You, um.” Kravitz picked up his fork and pushed some of the baked beans around his plate. “Theoretically, Taako. If I wound up making the Davy Lamp a favourite haunt of mine.” He locked eyes with Taako. “Would I see you again?”

It took Taako a moment to process what Kravitz meant, frozen with a forkful of meatloaf halfway to his mouth. “Krav,” he said slowly, setting his fork down. “Are you asking to see me again?” Kravitz squirmed and jammed half a slice of fried bread in his mouth. “Because, like, yeah,” Taako said. “I’m here all the time—just ask Ren—but like. You don’t have to wait to run into me randomly again if that’s what you want. I’ve got—like—give me your phone number,” he blurted.

Kravitz choked on his tea. “E-excuse me?”

“No, hang on, that’s not what I—fuck.” Taako buried his face in one hand and groaned. “I mean—look, you’re a cool guy, Kravitz, or you seem like one.”

“Thank you.” Kravitz’s face was so red Taako could almost feel the heat coming from it in waves.

“And, like, I want to see more of you, and from the sounds of it you want to see more of me, too.” He batted his eyelashes, playfully. “Am I wrong?”

Kravitz made a high pitched noise, but shook his head. “Yes, I mean no, you aren’t wrong, I’m—you seem like an interesting person, Taako, but I’m not looking for a—a _companion_ or what have you right now—”

Taako gave a horrible, nervous giggle. “Companion? What is this, the eighteen hundreds? But no, yeah, me neither, I’m—you’re very—I mean, we’re both good looking, that’s just facts.” Kravitz gave a somewhat strangled laugh and ducked his head. God, he was fucking _hot_ when he was flustered. “But I’m not looking for a boyfriend, or like, a warm body, or whatever. God too much other shit to deal with right now.” He leaned over and put a hand on Kravitz’s arm. “Friends, though?”

Kravitz looked down at Taako’s hand, then up at his face. He was smiling again. “I think I could handle friends.”

~~~

Taako was texting with Killian about catering arrangements when a different text came in. Lup lifted her head from the other end of the couch. “Who’s that?” she asked.

“Nobody,” Taako said, tapping on the notification. It was Kravitz, but like hell was he telling _her_ that.

“No, I know all your notification sounds, and none of them are some fucking crow bullshit,” Lup said, pulling her feet out of his lap and sitting up.

He leaned away from her as she tried to read over his shoulder. “It’s a _raven_, you basic bitch.” He only managed to get a few words into his reply before Lup jabbed him in the side and snatched the phone from him while he was distracted.

“Who’s ‘Goth Nerd skull emoji black heart emoji?’” she asked, reading the display name at the top.

“Just a dude I know—you don’t have to know _everything_ about my life,” Taako complained, grabbing the phone back and finishing his text.

“Yes I do.”

“I left you alone with Barold except where it crossed over into Best Friend Shit. You leave me alone with this.”

Her face brightened, and immediately he knew he’d made a mistake. “Oho! So you _like_ this Goth Nerd skull emoji black heart emoji, huh?”

“I _like_—what are we, twelve? And his name is Kravitz, if you _must_ know.” Taako sent his text and switched back to his conversation with Killian. “He’s the funeral director guy I was telling you about, we met up again by accident, and now we text sometimes. It’s not a Thing.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like a Thing.” He kicked her in the shin without looking up from his phone, and she sighed and flopped dramatically back onto the couch. “Whatever, nerd. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She sat up suddenly and pointed at him. “You should invite him to Killian and Carey’s wedding!”

Taako fixed her with a flat look. “I’m going to be catering that. Absolutely not.”

“You are? Since when?”

“Since, like, yesterday, when Killian texted me in a panic. They’re getting me a couple extra sets of hands, but I’m gonna be in charge.” He held up his phone so she could see his conversation with Killian. “I’m texting her about it right now.”

“Oh. Cool.” Lup sat back again, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I mean, it sucks that you don’t just get to be a normal guest or whatever.”

“I get paid this way, so I’m over it.”

She sat up again and grabbed his shoulder. “Okay, so invite him to Magic Brian’s wedding instead!”

He shook his head. “I’m not inviting him to anyone’s wedding! I just met the guy and _we are not dating_. He’s just a guy—a super hot and great and cool guy—that I happen to know! It’s not a big deal! Magnus is also a super hot and great and cool guy that I happen to know, and you never tried to make _that_ happen!”

Lup waved him off. “Magnus only ever had eyes for Julia and we both know it. Besides, you aren’t into bears. But you _clearly_ have a thing for this guy if he’s saved in your phone with a heart emoji.”

“It’s a _black_ heart emoji, and it’s because he’s a fucking _goth_.” They hadn’t talked too much since running into each other at the Davy Lamp last week, but Kravitz definitely struck Taako as someone who at least appreciated the goth aesthetic. He walked around in tailored suits and eyeliner, for crying out loud.

“You don’t even have _me_ in your phone with a heart emoji,” Lup pointed out.

Taako threw up his hands. “Okay, so he’s hot and I wanna make out with him a little bit, alright?! Is that a fucking crime now?! I don’t want to date right now, and he doesn’t either, so we’re friends, and it’s fine! Can we move on?!”

Lup looked disappointed, but she shrugged. “I still say you should invite him to Brian’s wedding. If he’s a goth like you said, you should see if he can out-goth Brian at his own wedding.

Now that _was_ tempting. Taako filed it away for later. “Whatever, Lup.” He stood and sauntered towards his room. “If you’ll excuse me,” he called over his shoulder, “I have a wedding menu to plan.”

~~~

_Are you awake?_

Taako stared at his phone. It was one in the morning, and Kravitz was texting him to ask if he was up. What the _fuck_ was he supposed to make of that? Like, sure, he was up, but that was the culmination of a lot of shitty life choices, and also night terrors. Why the fuck was a guy as put together as Kravitz—who presumably had to be at work in the morning—texting him at one in the a.m.?

_sure yea whats up_

It was a few minutes before Kravitz replied. Taako switched on the lamp on his bedside table. He wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon anyway.

_I just can’t sleep. Would you talk to me?_

_ya alrgith lmao_  
_whats eating u mydude_

_Nothing’s ‘eating’ me. Just some regular old insomnia._

_i totally get that_  
_isnt using ur phone bad 4 ur sleep tho_

_Probably, ha ha._  
_Oh, I wanted to aks you something._  
_*ask_

Taako’s heart pounded loud in his ears. His fingers shook as he typed his response.

_uh whats up_

_Is it alright if I come visit you at work sometime?_  
_I wouldn’t want to seem like I’m intruding._  
_Obviously if you’re too busy I won’t bother you though, ha ha._  
_Taako?_

Taako had buried his face in his pillow. Of course Kravitz had wanted to ask something benign like that. He wasn’t texting him at stupid o’clock in the morning to suddenly spill his guts that he wanted to date Taako or anything, and Taako had been stupid to even consider it. God he was a loser. He pulled himself together and jabbed out a reply.

_lmao u can visit whenever u want_  
_free country_  
_ur welcome at my apartment whenever 2_  
_oh uh i guess i should give u the address for that huh_

_If you’d like to. I’d love to come visit._  
_I want to see you more often, but I know we’re both busy._

_being an adult sux huh lol_

He wanted to see Taako more often. Taako’s heart felt like it would burst. This awesome, kind, awkward and sexy and fucking amazing human being wanted to see Taako more often.

Fuck, maybe Lup was right. Maybe this was a Thing.

_actually i have a thing comin up_  
_u wanna go with me 2 a wedding?_

[ ](https://squidink-spaghetti.tumblr.com/post/188191164880/i-just-cant-sleep-would-you-talk-to-me)

[ ](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188196416165/my-second-piece-for-the-tazbang-once-again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * Yes I specifically put “Call Me Maybe” on this playlist for the sole purpose of naming a Taakitz chapter after it. Griffin McElroy said I was valid
>   * The meet ugly that starts this chapter off was in fact stolen from a meet ugly prompt list on Tumblr and tweaked to fit the characters and setting better. I have no shame.
>   * Kravitz’s moms are the Raven Queen and Istus. I wish I could’ve worked that into the fic more.
>   * Ren is so good? I love Ren.
>   * Kravitz vs. Magic Brian: GAY GOTH CULTURE HEAD TO HEAD! RAVEN AESTHETIC + NICE SUITS VS. SPIDER AESTHETIC + ONLY WEARING BLACK! PLACE YOUR BETS FOLKS
>   * All of the typos in the text messages are actual typos I made and kept in the fic. I swear I’m a good typist.


	6. Only Fools Rush In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is wrong with Julia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has art by Juno! Go check out his art on [Tumblr](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188218799320/my-final-piece-for-the-tazbang-a-scene-that) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lumiosegym/status/1181652664687288320?s=20)!
> 
> Chapter title from "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley.
> 
> _Wise men say_
> 
> _Only fools rush in_
> 
> _But I can't help_
> 
> _Falling in love with you_

Julia was asleep on the couch when Magnus got home, and that was his first indication that something was wrong. She hardly ever slept during the day, claiming it messed with her sleep schedule and that afternoon naps left her unable to sleep at night. So when he got home early at three in the afternoon to find her dozing on the couch with the weather channel still playing on the TV, he figured something was up.

He sat next to her on the couch and gently shook her shoulder. “Jules? Honey, wake up.”

She blinked sleepily, squinting at him. “Oh, Magnus,” she said. “What time is it?”

“Just after three; your dad let me come home early today.” Magnus wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her to him. “Everything good? It’s not like you to fall asleep like that.”

Julia yawned, cutting herself off halfway through to wince and grab at her stomach. “I’m fine, hon. I guess I just dozed off. I think I’m coming down with something.”

Magnus immediately pressed his wrist to her forehead. “You don’t seem to have a temperature. Should we go see the doctor? It’s not that late in the day; the clinic’s probably open—”

“Magnus, I’m _fine_.” Julia’s stomach gurgled audibly, and she cringed. “I don’t need—why are you home so early, anyway?”

He shrugged. “Slow day at the shop.” She nodded and started to stand up, but he grabbed her hand before she went too far. “You’re sure you’re alright? I can take you to the clinic, it’s fine—”

“Sweetheart.” Julia leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I’m absolutely certain I don’t need to go to the doctor today. I’m _positive_. Now since you’re home, can you come give me a hand in the kitchen? I want to get it at least halfway presentable before Angus comes over.”

~~~

The second sign that something was wrong with Julia came three days later, when she suddenly couldn’t stand the smell of peanut butter.

“But you _love_ peanut butter,” Magnus said with a spoon full of the stuff already halfway to his mouth.

Julia stood on the other side of the kitchen, one hand under her nose to block it, the other resting on her stomach. “I _know_, and it’s the _worst_, trust me! But something about it—I don’t know, it just smells _awful_ right now. Can you please put it away?”

Magnus wavered and looked down at Angus, who was sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of veggie sticks and a pile of books. Angus shrugged helplessly. Magnus sighed. “Okay, yeah, sure, I’ll take this to the other room and eat it there.”

“Only eat one spoonful,” Julia called after him as he left. “That stuff is full of sugar and preservatives.”

Magnus sat down heavily on the couch with the spoon in his mouth and thought. Something was up with Julia, that much was obvious. He really wanted to get her to a doctor as soon as possible. Julia was the sort of person who would insist on taking care of everyone around her, and exhaust herself doing so, but she hardly ever took the time for herself in return. It was one of the things that made them work so well as a couple—they both tended to take care of others to the point of exhausting themselves, so having someone else who did the same thing to make sure they didn’t self-destruct helped steady them both. But no matter how much Magnus tried, he was always worried he wasn’t doing a good enough job of it. Especially at times like this, when something was definitely wrong but Julia was being so damn _stubborn_ about it.

“Oh, by the way, I won’t be coming on Mondays anymore,” Angus was saying when Magnus walked back into the kitchen. Julia was sitting with Angus at the kitchen table, idly flipping through a carpentry magazine. They caught each others’ eyes before looking at Angus.

“Why’s that, dear?” Julia asked.

Angus puffed out his chest proudly. “I got on the soccer team! We’ve got after school practises on Mondays and Wednesdays, so Grandpa’s going to pick me up from school those days from now on.”

Magnus slapped him on the back. “Hey, good for you, kid! I didn’t know there was a jock hiding under all that nerd!” Julia cleared her throat and gave him a reproachful look. Magnus shrugged. “What? He knows I’m kidding.”

“Um, thanks, sir.” Angus rubbed his back where Magnus had got him. “I’m playing defense.”

Julia smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but abruptly shut it with a frown. She covered her mouth with one hand and her stomach with the other. Magnus was in front of her immediately, checking her temperature with his wrist. “Are you alright there, hon?” he asked. She looked pale, but she didn’t seem too hot or cold. “Did you eat anything weird?”

She shook her head, moving to stand up. “I’m just a little queasy, that’s all. I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.”

Magnus stood next to her, ready to help her to bed if she needed him to. “You haven’t?” He was a heavy sleeper, so it took a lot to wake him. If she’d been getting up a lot in the night, or even just lying awake, he would have no idea. His mind was already racing with ideas of why she might be having trouble sleeping, or things he could do to help her sleep better. Warm milk was good for that, right?

“No, it’s been hot lately.” She batted his hands away as he tried to help her. “I can walk, Magnus. I’m fine! Just tired. And nauseous.” Julia put her hands on her lower back and stretched. “Nothing a nap can’t fix. Would you pull out some things for dinner just in case I’m not up in time?”

“Sure, yeah,” he said quietly, watching her walk stiffly to their bedroom. Whatever was going on, he _needed_ to get her to the doctor, sooner rather than later.

~~~

There was a thud from the front hall and Magnus was on his feet. He didn’t bother wiping his shoes on the workshop doormat. There was no time to worry about sawdust. He went bounding into the living room, stopping dead when he saw Julia. She was crumpled on the floor, not moving, her shoes half off and the contents of her purse scattered around her.

Magnus’s heart stopped. The rest of him kicked into action, and he pulled out his phone as he knelt beside her, trying not to panic. She was breathing alright, and she didn’t look like she was hurt or anything. He cursed himself for not convincing her to go to the doctor sooner and brushed some of her hair away to check her pulse.

Julia’s eyes fluttered open. The iron grip of anxiety on his heart loosened slightly. “Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Julia croaked. She looked around. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I heard a noise—I think you collapsed.” She sat up, holding her head, Magnus supporting her gently the whole time. He was no doctor, but he was pretty sure that if someone’s head or neck was injured they weren’t supposed to move. Julia seemed fine, thankfully. Maybe now she’d actually agree to go to a hospital. He’d never seen Julia this fragile before. She was always tough as nails, always ready to roughhouse with the best of them. Whatever was going on, Magnus didn’t like it at all.

“I think my blood sugar must’ve dropped,” Julia was saying. “Dr. Sydnee said something like this might happen. Could you get me some orange juice, please?”

“Dr. Sydnee?” Magnus helped her to her feet, still checking her for bruises and head trauma. “When did you go see her?”

Julia smiled at him, a little tired and a lot sheepish. “I, um. Just now.”

Magnus stared at her. “You—you said you were going to the Hammer and Tongs to help your dad with bookkeeping!”

“I…might’ve lied a little.” She sank to the couch with a short breath and started taking her shoes off the rest of the way. Magnus just stared at her, stunned. “Please don’t be upset,” she said, looking up at him. “I promise it wasn’t anything—I just didn’t want you to stress about it, that’s all. I didn’t think it’d be a big problem.”

He shook his head. “I mean, I _get_ that, but—I’m just upset you didn’t tell me.”

Julia took his hand. “I know. And I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again, especially—” She cut herself off with a grimace as her stomach made an unpleasant sound. “Sorry, hon, but I really do need that orange juice.”

“Oh, right.” Magnus hurried to the kitchen, fumbling a glass out of the cupboard and rushing a cup of orange juice out to her. “So? What’s happening? What did Dr. Sydnee have to say? Is everything okay?”

She drank half the orange juice before putting it aside. Magnus instinctively moved it to a coaster. “Well, I…I wanted to wait a little longer to tell you, but I guess now is a good enough time.”

Magnus wracked his brain. Julia was tired, nauseous, had low blood sugar… “You’re…diabetic?”

Julia laughed. “No, honey.” She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it. “I’m _pregnant_.”

[ ](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188218799320/my-final-piece-for-the-tazbang-a-scene-that)

[ ](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188218799320/my-final-piece-for-the-tazbang-a-scene-that)

[ ](https://wizbian.tumblr.com/post/188218799320/my-final-piece-for-the-tazbang-a-scene-that)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is THE MOST Magnus/Julia song in the world SPECIFICALLY because of the line “only fools rush in” and I have a whole animatic that plays in my head when I hear it and it makes me CRY
>   * I looked up “pregnancy side effects” and other such things online for this chapter and now I keep getting targeted ads about baby stuff. The things I suffer for fanfic
>   * Magnus and Julia are my parents and I love them. No but like actually I kinda based them on my parents just a little bit while I was writing them for this fic.
>   * “You’re…diabetic?” is definitely my favourite gag I’ve ever written
>   * Yes I named their family doctor Dr. Sydnee on purpose. The Adventure Zone may be the only one I can write fanfic for, but Sawbones is my favourite McElroy podcast.


	7. I Will Listen, Tell It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the office of Dr. Brad Bradson, therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Ready Now" by dodie from the _Moomin Valley_ soundtrack.
> 
> _You said "I will listen, tell it all,_
> 
> _When you're finished we'll talk more"_
> 
> _But I didn't know how, so we took it in turns_
> 
> _To my surprise we found my words_

“I don’t think the problem is that people don’t trust me,” Lucretia said. She was sitting in a chair on the other side of Brad’s desk. He offered several other options—he’d just gotten a new couch—but Lucretia always insisted on the hardback chair with the desk between them. Brad often wondered if that was out of some subconscious need to keep people at a distance or if it really was just what she found most comfortable. “It’s more that—well, I think I perceive mistrust where there isn’t any, and it’s difficult to distinguish between real distrust and something I’m making up.”

“Something _your depression_ is making up,” Brad corrected gently. “But I understand what you mean.” According to the notes and profile he’d drawn up for Lucretia over the years, she was sensitive to criticism and carried a lot of perceived guilt, along with several other symptoms of her depression. Struggling to feel like those closest to her actually trusted her wasn’t out of order from what he’d seen. “And I’m proud of you for recognizing the problem for what it is—a symptom, and not your friends really hating you.”

“That doesn’t make it much easier, though,” she countered. “Like I said, I can’t really tell the difference. All I can do is try and convince myself that when Taako says he doesn’t care, it’s just Taako being flippant and not that he hates me.” She paused, looking down at her hands in her lap. “It doesn’t always work.”

Brad nodded. “Well, no. And there probably isn’t a way to tell completely for sure. But try thinking of it this way: does, for example, Taako have any reason to dislike or not trust you?”

She flinched as though he’d struck her. “No,” she said after a concerningly long moment.

Brad raised his eyebrows. “Lucretia.”

“I mean, he doesn’t,” she said. She looked uncomfortable. “It’s just that—well—what if he _does_?”

Brad glanced at the clock. Yes, they had time to unpack this now. “Is that facts talking? Or is that our old friend, Perceived Guilt?”

Lucretia clasped her hands in her lap. “It’s my depression. I know that. Rationally, I know that.” Her hands tightened. “But emotionally knowing something is harder.”

~~~

The Burnsides were interesting clients, to say the least. A husband and wife duo, they always insisted on having their therapy sessions together despite not having any real relationship problems to speak of. Even before they started coming to Brad, they had great lines of communication open, and according to both of them—even on the rare occasions when he could corner one of the other of them by themselves—they hardly ever argued. They had started coming to see him on the recommendation of one of their other clients, Taako, who they were friends with. Brad wasn’t complaining, of course. He thought everyone should have at least a few therapy sessions in their lifetime, though he’d be the first to admit his bias on that one.

The point was, Magnus and Julia Burnsides only ever had separate sessions when one of them was sick or otherwise unavailable. So for Magnus to schedule a secondary solo session in between his sessions with both Burnsides? Unthinkable.

And yet, here he was, a mountain of a man squirming uncomfortably on Brad’s new couch. Brad had taken the hardback chair in front of his desk and was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, sitting up straight with a notebook in his lap, just observing Magnus for a moment. Magnus wasn’t exactly what a regular person would call awkward. Loud and boisterous, certainly. Friendly to a fault, impulsive, and goofy, absolutely. But awkward, clumsy, or gawky? Not usually. Today, though, he practically exuded an uncomfortable energy. It permeated the room.

“So, by yourself today?” Brad asked, breaking the awkward silence with all the grace of a bowling ball.

Magnus shrugged, but nodded and leaned back against the couch. “Yeah, um, I just—well, you know how it is!” He laughed loudly and unconvincingly. “Needed to—you know. Just thought I’d—uh.”

He was floundering. Brad stepped in as smoothly as he could. “You have something you want to talk to me about, right? Is it something you don’t want to discuss with Julia?”

Magnus shook his head violently. “No! No, nothing like that! She’s—just—you know!” He almost seemed to deflate, looking guiltily at the ground. “I don’t want to make her upset. So I decided to talk to you about how to, like keep that from happening.”

Oh boy. “Upset about what? Did something happen?”

He gave Brad a genuine smile for the first time since he’d stepped into the office. “Well, yeah. Julia is pregnant!”

Brad lit up. “That’s wonderful! Congratulations to both of you! When is she due?”

“Right around Candlenights.” His eyes widened and he gestured wildly with his hands. “Oh, but don’t let anyone else know! We’re keeping it under wraps until we’ve told her dad and our friends in person, then we’ll make Facebook posts and all that crap.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” Brad smiled. Magnus and Julia had been talking about the possibility of having children for a while now, always agreeing it wasn’t the right time yet. He was glad for both of them that they’d decided now _was_ a good time. It was something they both clearly wanted. But people who are utterly, one hundred percent ecstatic about becoming a first-time parent didn’t schedule secret solo therapy sessions. “So is there something about the baby that you’re having a hard time with?”

“Well yes—I mean no—I mean—ugh.” Magnus sat back again, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the ceiling. “It’s complicated.”

Brad spread his arms wide. “That’s why I’m here. You pay me big bucks to sort out complicated things, Magnus. I’m all yours for the next hour. Make me do my job.”

Magnus laughed. “Yeah, alright. Okay, so. You know how I rush into things all the time?”

It was a topic of constant discussion at their sessions. Magnus preferred action, but Julia was always worried this would be the time where jumping in with both feet came with horrific consequences. They were working on getting him to at least look both ways first. “I do,” Brad said.

“Well, I mean. I do that because I can take it, you know? If something bad happens, I mean. I can take the big hits, I’ve got a pretty thick skin, and—” He sat up and flexed. Brad laughed politely. “I rush in to keep other people from getting hurt. If something happened to someone I care about because I didn’t do anything—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “It makes me nauseous just to think about it.”

Brad nodded. They’d discussed this before, too. He had a pretty good idea of where this was going, but he wanted to hear it in Magnus’s own words before he jumped in and started putting words in his mouth. “Go on.”

“I’m just…” Magnus trailed off, and all the wind seemed to come out of his sails at once. “When Julia first got pregnant, she was really weak a lot of the time. That’s not like her. She’s tough as nails, like me!” He flexed again, but it seemed half-hearted. He clasped his hands in his lap awkwardly. “But yeah, she was sick a lot, and there was this issue with her blood sugar for a while? It’s under control now, but at the time it was really scary. She even _fainted_ once. I’m just glad she was at home that time, because if she’d been out somewhere without me and that happened, I would’ve—I—” He swallowed. “I don’t know what I would’ve done.

“And it’s great, honestly, that she’s pregnant! I’m not saying I don’t want—I _want_ to be a dad,” he said firmly. “I do. I want to be _Julia’s kid’s_ dad. But there’s a lot that I don’t know, and a lot I can’t protect her from, with this. I’ve been reading a lot of pregnancy and parenting books and we’re signing up for some prenatal classes and stuff, that’s all great and whatever. I just—I can’t always help her? And I don’t know what to do about that. That’s usually the one thing I’m always really good at.”

Brad listened intently, jotting notes as Magnus talked. Magnus seemed to be done talking now and was watching him scribble down the last of his notes. “I think I understand what you’re saying,” Brad said, laying his notebook on the desk behind him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re worried that something will happen and you won’t be able to do anything about it, because medical and health things are just like that. No matter how much you rush in, or how much you might _want_ to protect someone, there isn’t much you can do about someone else’s medical issues.”

“Pretty much!” Magnus folded his arms and squeezed himself into the corner of the couch. “It sucks! Is this what anxiety is? Because I hate it!”

“I think what you’re _feeling_ is anxiety,” Brad said slowly. “I don’t think you _have_ anxiety, though. Let’s talk this through, and we’ll see if we can find some ways for you to deal with these feelings in a healthy way.” Magnus nodded, brightening a bit. “But first off, if you haven’t already, I think talking to Julia about this is the place to start.” Magnus sagged. “Hear me out. You two have an amazing relationship. I’m a little jealous, if I’m being honest! So it’s important that you keep that healthy communication running. You want to help Julia. That makes sense; she’s your wife, you love her, it’s in your nature to want to help. But you have to remember—you’re also her husband. She wants to protect you, too. Julia can’t help if she doesn’t know how you feel. It’s going to—I’m not going to lie, it’ll probably suck. It’ll be weird and uncomfortable and difficult. But that’s the first thing that has to happen.”

Magnus sighed and leaned his chin on his hand. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

~~~

Brad listened politely as Merle scrolled through pictures on his phone and chattered away about them. Most of them were of the plants that seemingly covered every square inch of his apartment. To Brad’s untrained eye, they looked mostly the same as they did last month when Merle came in and showed him pictures, but Merle insisted they were different. They all had names, too, which was somewhere between sweet and weird.

There were also several pictures of Merle’s friends, a few of whom were also patients of Brad’s, and his actual kids, Mavis and Mookie. Brad had never met them, but from how Merle talked they seemed like nice kids. The photo Merle was talking about now was of the growth chart he had in his kitchen. Mookie, age eight, stood up on his tiptoes in front of it, stretching up to seem taller than he was. Mavis stood next to him, slouching and looking embarrassed. “She says she’s too old for the height chart now,” Merle scoffed. “She’s still twelve! Plenty of time left to grow.”

Brad smiled and shook his head. “She’ll be getting into her teenage years soon.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Merle grimaced. “She’s smart as hell already; I’m not eager to see what that’s like combined with hormones.” He swiped to the next picture and froze. “Oh. I, uh, didn’t realize this was the next one.”

It was a selfie Merle had taken of himself and another man Brad didn’t know. “He vaguely recognized him from Merle’s other pictures, with greying ginger hair and a well-groomed moustache, They were at some kind of dance or something, Merle in a loud tropical shirt and the other man in a white button-down with a black bowtie. He looked embarrassed but pleased as Merle planted a kiss on his cheek.

Brad raised his eyebrows at Merle. “Well. That’s sweet.”

Merle hastily shoved his phone in the pocket of his cargo shorts. “Yep.” He was the one who seemed embarrassed now, scooting to the other end of the couch. Brad stood and moved to the armchair on the other side of the room to give him space. He generally didn’t sit that close to his patients during sessions, but Merle always insisted on showing him pictures.

“So who’s that?” Brad asked, settling into the chair. “I’ve seen him before, but I’m having trouble pulling his name forward.”

“Yeah, that’s Davenport.” Merle’s voice was gruff with embarrassment and he cleared his throat, blustering forward to try and save face. “We’ve been friends for years. Met while, uh…” He trailed off, tugging absently at his beard. “I don’t actually remember! It’s been so long. Something to do with Lucretia, I think. Whatever. Anyway, last week I got him to help chaperone a youth dance at the church.”

“That sounds nice,” Brad said mildly.

“Sure, yeah. It was fine. Anyway, now we’re dating, so that’s cool.”

Brad eyed him over. Merle was obviously trying to play it cool, but it was clear this Davenport person meant a lot to him. And there was something else going on, too. Brad wasn’t sure yet, but he’d put money on it being something to do with Merle’s huge inferiority complex. “I’m happy for you,” he offered. “How long have you wanted to date Davenport?”

Merle flinched, then shrugged. “Oh, long enough.” He laughed, somewhat bitterly. “It’s not important. What _is_ important is that we’ve got each other, for however long until I screw it all up.”

And there it was. Brad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And why would you think you’re going to screw it up?”

The look Merle gave him was condescending at best, outright scathing at worst. “Brad. You’re a great guy. But remember it’s _me_ we’re talking about here.” His laugh this time was hollow, self-deprecating. “I screw everything up, eventually!”

“Okay.” Brad folded his hands. “So, first of all, that’s bullshit and you know it. We’ve _talked_ about this.”

Merle squinted at him. “Right.” He sounded skeptical. Brad resisted the urge to sigh. Every month it was like this. Brad spent the entire hour talking Merle out of whatever inferiority funk he’d gotten himself into this time, and they rarely had time to start tackling the actual core of Merle’s problems. “It’s _not_ going to end badly just because I’m a shitty person with a history of walking out on relationships.”

“That’s—” Brad paused. Merle _did_ have a history of doing that, if doing it once counted as ‘a history.’ He knew it was something Merle still felt a lot of guilt over, so he didn’t want to just dismiss it out of hand. “Alright,” he said. “You did do that once. And how’s your relationship with Hekuba and the kids now?”

“Oh, I still don’t talk to Hekuba if I don’t have to,” Merle said cheerfully. “It’s probably better that way, anyway.” From what Merle had told him, Brad had to privately agree. “But, uh, the kids? Well—Mookie was pretty little when it happened. I don’t think he remembers it that well. I don’t think he remembers it that well. Mavis, though—I don’t know what’s going on in her head.” He looked wistful. “I wish I did. I mean—I’m not really her dad, you know. I’m her stepdad.” Brad sat up, surprised. He hadn’t known that. “Her real dad died when she was a baby, and then I walked out on her when she was just old enough to understand what that meant.” Merle shook his head. “I definitely already screwed the pooch on that front.”

“Let me ask you this, then,” Brad tried. “When Mavis and Mookie are over at your place, what’s she like? Does she ignore you, want nothing to do with you?”

Merle hesitated. “No.”

“Does she talk to you when you try to start a conversation with her?”

“Yes.”

“Have you tried talked to her about this?”

Merle scoffed. “She’s _twelve_.”

“And apparently pretty emotionally capable,” Brad countered. “‘Smart as hell,’ I think were your words. Talk to her. I’m always for more open communication between loved ones than less. Maybe not Mookie yet, but when he’s older, too. And Davenport, too, sooner than later.”

“Ugh, when you’re right, you’re right,” Merle grumbled, leaning against the couch’s armrest. “I mean, Dav and I had a long talk already about stuff.” His beard twitched into a smile. “I think we’ve got most stuff pretty much on lock. And I—I care about him, really. You know? I want him to be happy. Just, you know, if I ever feel like he’d be happier without me than with me—”

“Then you _talk_ to him,” Brad said sternly, “and don’t just make assumptions and break up with him.”

“Right, right, yeah.” Merle rolled his eye. “I was _going_ to say that.”

~~~

“Braaaaaaaad,” Taako whined, collapsing face first onto the couch.

Brad stayed in his seat at the desk, leaning his chin in his hand and observing Taako’s antics from a safe distance. “Taakooooo,” he echoed. “How are you?”

“Brad I’m gonna die,” Taako announced, somewhat muffled by the couch cushions. “I did a dumb impulse thing because I’m dumb and now I’m gonna die.”

His fingers twitched towards the bottom drawer of his desk. A colleague had told him about something they used in therapy with people who were constant down on themselves like Taako, and he wondered if now was the time to try it out. “I’ll be the judge of that. What did you do?”

Taako peeked up at him plaintively. “It’s stupid.”

Okay, it was definitely time. Brad gestured for Taako to keep talking, reaching down to open the drawer.

“So I met this guy, and I made a complete tool of myself in front of him which _sucked_ because he was hot—_is that a fucking Nerf gun_?”

Brad smiled genially and laid it on his desk, folding his hands over it. “It is.”

Taako sat up and squinted suspiciously at it. “Are you, Doctor Brad Bradson, PhD, going to shoot me with a fucking _Nerf blaster_ during this _professional therapy session_ which my sister is _paying you for_?”

“Well, that depends on you, doesn’t it?”

Taako looked between the gun and Brad’s face and back, frowning the whole time. “I—you know what? This is not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. Alright.” He leaned back on the couch, feet up on the armrest and staring at the ceiling. “Okay, so. This guy. He’s actually really cool, right? Like, I already mentioned he’s hot, but it’s not just that, it’s the whole package. He’s smart and funny and talented and _completely_ my type. And not just that, but he seems like he likes me? Like for real, likes _me_. I don’t know if he just wants to be my friend or whatever, but either way, dude’s got some _weird_ taste if he’s going for me—”

And that was Brad’s cue. Before Taako could react, Brad picked up the gun and shot Taako in the leg. Taako yelped and sat up. “What the _fuck_?!”

Brad smiled and gestured for Taako to continue.

There was a smile tugging at Taako’s mouth, but he continued glaring at Brad for a solid minute before speaking again. “Alright, is _that_ our game today. Fine.” He folded his arms and crossed his legs, leaning back against the couch. “Like I said, this guy is the real deal, and I want a slice of that pie if I can get it. But, uh, to be honest? I’m pretty sure he isn’t into me the same way. Which, like, fine? I’ll take friendship? Cuz like I said he’s a good dude and I’d rather be friends than nothing with him.” Brad nodded. So far so good. “But then I fucked up and did something stupid like usual—”

_Thwap._

Taako shrieked, rubbing his arm where Brad had shot him. “Okay, _seriously_—”

“No more negative self talk,” Brad said, gesturing with the blaster, “no more Nerf darts. Come on, Taako. You’re smart. You can figure this out.”

Still glaring, Taako moved to the further end of the couch. It wouldn’t help—Brad wasn’t a great shot, but he had more bullets than Taako had options—but it was cute that he tried. “You do this with all your clients, or just your favourites?” Taako muttered.

Brad kept his placid smile in place. “Only people I think it’ll be effective for. Now. You were saying?”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Alright, so. I did something. Impulsive? I guess? Without thinking it through. And now with the benefit of hindsight I think it was a bad idea and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

That was better, anyway, Brad supposed. “Okay. What happened?”

Taako buried his face in his hands. “I asked him to a wedding.”

Brad blinked. “I see. As your date?”

“No, I—I told him it was just as a plus one and—ugh.” Taako flopped over on the couch. Brad moved around to the armchair so he could still see him while Taako continued talking. “So, like, my friend Magic Brian is getting married, see. And I originally said I’d go with a plus one because Lup was gonna come with me.” Brad nodded. He knew Lup. She came to see him every couple of months to manage her stress. She also paid for all of Taako’s therapy sessions. “Except now she can’t, because _Barold_ is more important to her than me—”

_Thwap._

“Goddamnit!” Taako shouted, cradling his hand. Brad shrugged and gestured with the blaster for Taako to continue. “Look, I _know_ Barry isn’t more important to Lup than me—and it wouldn’t be a big deal if it was, that’s not—it’s whatever. She loves him and he’s a good guy and they’re great together and shit. Sue me for being kinda jealous. It’s almost like she’s my sister and I miss hanging out with her when she’s not around or something.”

Brad glanced at the clock. They definitely weren’t going to have time to unpack both the dating issues and this new Lup thing before he had to move on. Maybe they could talk about it next time, but for now it was probably best to focus on one thing at a time. “To get back on track,” he said, “Lup can’t go to this wedding with you anymore?”

“Yeah, she’s got some dumb university science bullshit thing to go to with Barry so she’s _abandoning_ me in my _hour of need_—thatwasajokedon’tshootme—but I already said I was bringing someone. So I asked this guy—his name is Kravitz, bee tee dubz—I asked Kravitz if he’d come with me like—_not_ like an idiot,” he said, frowning. “Like—like someone who wants company? I don’t know. I didn’t want to go by myself.” Brad nodded. “But, like, it was definitely an impulse ask and now he’s said yes and _I don’t know what to do_.”__

_ _Brad stared. “So he did say yes?”_ _

_ _Taako gestured dramatically at the ceiling. “Yeah, wild, right? I was totally sure he’d say no, because that’s such a bananas thing to ask someone you barely know to do. But he was _flattered_. Said nobody ever asked him to do stuff like this.” He looked plaintively up at Brad. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, you know?”_ _

_ _“I think you’re supposed to go to a wedding with him, and have a lovely time,” Brad said._ _

_ _“No, I mean—” Taako sat up, folding his legs underneath him. “I just feel like there’s a lot of mixed messages, or maybe it’s all the same message and I can’t fuckin’ read it right.” Brad aimed the Nerf gun and Taako held up his hands. “That wasn’t supposed to be self-deprecating! Slow your roll, Bradson! It’s just that—I don’t know. I don’t really get what’s going on here. Is he into me or not? Like, you don’t usually agree to go to a wedding for someone you don’t know if a guy you like platonically asks you, right? But also he told me when we first started talking a couple weeks ago that he wasn’t looking for a—a _companion_, that was the word. What the fuck does _that_ mean, first of all, am I right? But yeah, first he tells me he’s not into dating right now, which, fine, I’m not either, I don’t care, I was over it, but then later it’s ‘yeah sure I’ll go to this wedding with you, no hesitation, should we get matching outfits’ and what the _fuck_ am I supposed to get from that?”_ _

_ _Brad listened, nodding along while Taako unloaded. “That…certainly is a lot,” he finally said. “Let me ask you this: do you want this relationship to stay platonic?”_ _

_ _Taako fidgeted, staring at the floor with a pensive frown. “It’s complicated,” he said after a minute. “Like, if all Kravitz wants is a friend then I’ll live with that. I like hanging out with him and shit. But if he wants to be anything else then I’d jump on that in a heartbeat.”_ _

_ _“Have you told him that?”_ _

_ _Taako gave him a look like he’d just suggested taking a swim in rancid garbage. “Absolutely _fucking_ not. I’m not making a big deal out of this until there’s something to make a big deal out of. Besides, I don’t want him to feel like I only started being friends with him so I could bone him. I’ve been on the other end of that and it _sucks_.”_ _

_ _Brad nodded. It did suck. “Alright, that’s fair.” He set the blaster aside and folded his hands in his lap. “So. Let’s talk this out. You’re going to this wedding with this man you’re attracted to. How do you see that going?”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * I keep working Brad into my fics even though he is such a minor character. I don’t know why. I just love him.
>   * I wish I could’ve made Lucretia’s section longer but I honestly couldn’t figure out what to do with it.
>   * Boy these really are all just different flavours of anxiety, huh.
>   * Maybe _I_ should go to a therapist.


	8. I Love You More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mavis's dad is up to something. Why else would he take her and Mookie for ice cream? And who is this Davenport guy, and why is he here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "In My Life" by the Beatles.
> 
> _Though I know I'll never lose affection_
> 
> _For people and things that went before_
> 
> _I know I'll often stop and think about them_
> 
> _In my life, I love you more_

“Hey, I know you!” Mookie said, bounding up to the moustached man waiting outside the school’s main entrance. “You’re dad’s boat friend from upstairs!”

He gave the two of them the awkward smile that adults give kids they only sort of know. “That’s right. I’m Davenport.”

Mavis nodded. “Hi. Where’s Dad?”

Davenport shrugged. “He said he’d be right back. Something about a note from Mookie’s teacher.”

“So how come you’re here?” Mookie asked, bouncing on his toes.

“Your dad asked me to give him a ride,” Davenport said easily. Mavis frowned. They usually had to walk to Dad’s apartment on his weekends. Not that she was complaining or anything. Walking to Dad’s apartment sucked.

She was about to ask about it when Dad appeared from behind Mookie, grabbing him up in a hug that had him shrieking and laughing. “Hey, kids! I see you found Dav!”

“Daddy!” Mookie yelled, squirming around in Dad’s arms to cling to him properly. “What’d ya bring me?! What’d ya bring me?!”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo!” Dad set Mookie down and turned to Mavis, eye twinkling. “How’s it going, hon?” he asked her.

Mavis shrugged. “Good. Me’n’Angus finally have a topic for our science fair project, and—”

“Cool, great,” Dad interrupted. Mavis’s heart sank and she tried not to sigh. She was used to it. People didn’t really pay much attention to her, but Dad had always been an exception. “You guys can tell me _all_ about the last couple weeks as _soon_ as we get to the Ice Cream Palace.”

Mookie immediately started screaming and jumping up and down. Mavis squeezed her hands in the hem of her dress, her face brightening up. “Really?!” she asked. Dad only took them to the Ice Cream Palace on very special occasions, because it was expensive and also it was easier to go downstairs and bug Taako into making desserts for them.

Which begged the question, she realized as Dad and Davenport led them towards Davenport’s little red car, what was the special occasion? It wasn’t her birthday, or Mookie’s, or Dad’s. Was it Davenport’s? It wasn’t the end of the school year, and the science fair was nowhere near done.

Her eyes narrowed. This was beyond suspicious.

~~~

They managed to find a booth for all four of them. Mavis had assumed Davenport would drop them off and then go do his own thing, but he slid into the booth next to Dad, keeping a careful hold on his little paper cup of strawberry gelato. That was weird. Normally, Dad was pretty insistent that family time was just for family—that is, him, her, and Mookie. She didn’t _mind_, necessarily; Davenport was a nice enough guy, even if she didn’t know him very well. It was just weird.

Mookie was talking about making a boat out of recyclables in science class earlier that day, gesturing wildly with his chocolate ice cream cone. Dad and Davenport nodded along in that way that adults do when they’re only mostly paying attention to what you’re saying and are more concerned with whether or not you’ll get chocolate ice cream on your new white shirt. There was already ice cream all over his face, and Mavis sighed and reached over to try in vain to clean him up a bit.

“And then it _sank_!” Mookie said, eyes wide. “Mrs. D said it was something about being—um—waterlegged?”

“Waterlogged,” Davenport corrected gently. “Do you like boats, Mookie?”

“Yeah! Boats are cool!” Mookie squirmed away from the wet napkin Mavis was trying to clean his face with. “When I grow up I’m gonna get a _big_ boat and sail all the way to—to—Mavis, stoooop.”

Dad elbowed Davenport. “Well, you two should have a lot to talk about, then! Davenport here spends more time on his boat than off it!”

Davenport shrugged, looking down at the table with a little smile. “I mean, in fairness. I’m spending more time on dry land these days.”

Dad cleared his throat, and there was something else going on between those two, Mavis could feel it. She didn’t know what it was yet, but it was there. “Anyway, Mavis, how’re you doing?” Dad asked her. “You said something about the science fair?”

She brightened, sitting up straight and abandoning Mookie to his sticky-faced fate. “Yeah, Angus and I—you remember Angus, right Dad? Angus McDonald?”

He snorted and Davenport elbowed him. “Yeah, I know Angus. Lil stinker lives two apartments away from me and spends more time at my friends’ places than I do; course I know him.”

Did Dad not like Angus? Mavis frowned and tucked that away for later. “Um, anyway, we’re doing a project about crime scene investigation. We’re trying to figure out if the stuff they show on TV is real forensic science or not.”

Dad let out a long, slow whistle. “That’s quite the project there!”

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s mostly an excuse to watch bad crime dramas for, um, research. And data analysis.”

Dad laughed and Davenport shook his head. “That’s my girl!” Dad said, slapping his thigh.

“The main problem right now is that we need to do a blind test,” she explained. “We need to investigate a crime scene, but it can’t be somewhere we’ve been before and we can’t set it up ourselves or we’ll know all the answers and it won’t be a fair test.”

Davenport looked thoughtful. “You could use my apartment, if your dad says it’s alright.” He frowned. “And also you don’t get fake blood on my carpets.”

Dad grinned. “Hey, perfect! What do you think, kiddo?”

Mavis looked between them. They seemed like they were trying to impress her. To what end, she hadn’t quite figured out yet.

But she would.

“Sure,” she said. “That sounds great. Thanks.”

~~~

By the time they finished their ice cream, it was still nice enough outside that Dad suggested a short walk through a nearby park. Mavis trailed behind, looking around at the scenery. Mookie, on the other hand, ran ahead, laughing when Davenport went running after him to bring him back. It happened three times before Dad took him aside to explain that he just did it so someone would chase him, and if nobody did he’d just come back himself in a minute or two.

Dad dropped back to walk with Mavis after a while. He looked thoughtful, staring up at the leaves as they walked. “What’s up?” she asked.

He blinked a few times before looking towards her with a smile. “Hm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how pretty the trees are this time of year.” He gestured above them. The dark green leaves stood in stark contrast to the cloudless blue sky. “We should go on more walks for family time,” he declared. “There aren’t that many greenspaces by the apartment, but if we ask Dav I’m sure he’d be nice and drive us somewhere.”

Mavis looked forward to where Davenport and Mookie were walking. Mookie was asking rapid-fire questions about Davenport’s boat, and Davenport was trying valiantly to keep up with them while taking pictures of the scenery on his phone. “So is this going to be a thing now?” she asked.

“Is what going to be a thing, sweetheart?”

“Davenport.” She pointed at him. “Is he going to come to all our family times now?”

Dad coughed. “Uh, well, no. I mean, not _all_ of them. Family time is still just for us three.” He paused. “I just…wanted to introduce you two to him properly, that’s all.”

Mavis looked between Dad and Davenport. “Oh.”

“So, do you like him?” Dad asked conversationally. “Davenport, I mean.”

And something clicked. Mavis stared at her dad. “Wait, is he your _boyfriend_?”

Dad sputtered. “I—he’s—well—I mean, yes,” he finally said. Most of his face was covered by his beard, but what she could see was flushed bright red. “He—Davenport is very special to me,” he said, talking slowly, choosing his words carefully. “And, obviously, you and Mookie are, too.” He reached out an arm and squeezed her around the shoulders. “You know that, right?”

She nodded. Sometimes it was hard to remember that, when it was just her and Mookie and Mom, and she remembered that it was three instead of four because Dad had left. But he always made it obvious that he was trying, whether that was demanding that he got to spend either Christmas or Thanksgiving with them or just taking them for ice cream and a walk on a Friday afternoon. “Yeah,” she said.

“I just…well, I wanted to talk to you two about it on my own terms,” Dad explained. “Davenport is the first person I’ve dated since…well, since your mom. I wasn’t sure how you guys’d deal with that, so I wanted you to meet him and get to know him as Davenport before you got to know him as Dad’s boyfriend.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes while Mavis thought about it. Finally, she said “Mom’s dating again, too.”

Dad balked. “She’s—oh. Good for her, yeah. Good for her.” He cleared his throat. Anyone I’d know?”

“I dunno. Do you know Glymeth Coralheart?”

“Nah. But, uh, yeah, good for her.” He looked down at her. She wasn’t that much smaller than him anymore, and the realization filled her with pride. “How d’you feel about all that? About your parents dating other people?”

She looked down at the ground. “I don’t know.” Mom and Dad had barely been together long enough for her to think of them as a couple, and when they were together mostly what they did was fight. But on the other hand, she wasn’t sure that she wanted any more parental figures in her life. She was fine with the two she had, even if she could never have them at the same time.

Dad grunted, and they kept walking. “Let me ask you something,” he said after a minute. “And I want you to answer me honestly, okay?”

“You’re scaring me,” she joked. He fixed her with a stern look and she nodded. “Okay, yeah. What?”

He thought for a second, then said “Are you angry that I left?”

Mavis’s mind went blank. She wasn’t sure how to respond.

“No, hold on.” Dad frowned. “I’m—so I go see this guy once a month—his name is Brad, and he helps your old man with his brain issues.”

She nodded. “Like a therapist.”

“Like a—yeah, exactly like that. Brad’s my therapist. And he said—well, it’s something that’s been upsetting me for a long time, because I don’t know the answer.” Dad scratched his chin through his beard. “So, I want you to be honest, and it’s okay if the answer’s yes.”

Mavis looked down at her feet. Left, right. Left right. It was something she hadn’t talked about much recently. When her parents first got divorced, she was in the school youth worker’s office almost every day crying about it. But that was nearly five years ago. Now she was twelve and this was just her new normal.

“I think I used to be,” she said slowly. “Like, when it first happened.” Left, right. Left, right. If she looked at Dad now she’d start crying. “I mean, I don’t know if I was ever _angry_ at you or anything. I was mostly just—I think I was just confused? Like, if you loved us, how come you never came back?”

Dad had a hand on her shoulder now, and there were tears in her eyes. Crap. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and he sounded choked up. He pulled her into another side hug, and she leaned into him. “Your mom and I—we weren’t right for each other, and not a day goes by that I don’t wish I’d figured that out sooner and dealt with it better. I wish we could’ve done better without getting you kids involved.” He squeezed her shoulder, and she felt tears sliding down her face. “But I want you to know something. I don’t regret being with your mom. You know why?”

Mavis shook her head, wiping her face on the sleeves of her sweater. She’d stopped walking, and Dad stopped beside her.

“Because now I get to have you and Mookie in my life.”

She sniffled, and let herself be pulled into a proper hug. “I love you, Dad.”

He squeezed her a little harder. “Love you too, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * My dad used to sing “In My Life” as a lullaby to me when I was little, and so I can’t hear it as anything other than a father-daughter song. I think it’s better that way tbh. Also, for a long time, I didn’t know what it was called, and so I called it “Places” after the first line (“There are places I’ll remember all my life”) until I was 12, and I didn’t know it was a Beatles song until I was in college. 
>   * As much as I love Davenchurch (and I do. I love Davenchurch), I feel like Merle’s relationship with Mavis and Mookie is his best relationship in the show, and I wish there were more fics about them. I love them so much.
>   * This chapter is the only one that I had to stop working on because I was crying about it.


	9. But Not Too Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz is a fairly solitary person. He's always had a hard time making friends. So he's grateful for how fast he and Taako have become friends. And definitely nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains artwork from Sloane! Go support her on [Tumblr](https://divinelark.tumblr.com/post/188237398056/image-description-an-illustration-of-taako-and)!
> 
> Chapter title from "(It's a) Departure" by John Roderick and the Long Winters off the album Putting the Days to Bed.
> 
> _It's familiar_
> 
> _But not too familiar_
> 
> _But not too not familiar_
> 
> _It's a new craze!_

_hey guess what_

Kravitz raised an eyebrow at his phone. It was a text from Taako. Three words, zero context. Most of the texts he got from Taako were of a similar nature.

_I can’t guess. What is it?_

The reply came a few minutes later, as Kravitz was methodically putting away his lunch containers. It was a photo of some fairly basic latte art in a large green cappuccino mug.

_davenport got me a milk frother_  
_said he saw it at the store and thouhgt id like it lol_

_Was he right?_

_hell yea i love it lmao_

Kravitz wasn’t really sure who Davenport was, but Taako was happy, and that was what mattered. He and Taako texted back and forth a few more times before he slipped his phone into his pocket and returned to work.

His mother met him as he came out of his office. “The flowers for the afternoon service just got here,” she said by way of greeting. “Could you help them get set up?”

Kravitz nodded and went to move past her, but stopped at her hand on his arm. She met his eyes solemnly, the same way she did everything. “Who were you texting?”

He squirmed. “No one, Raven. Just a friend.” In the interest of professionalism, Kravitz always referred to his mother by her first name while they were at work. It had been strange at first, but he got used to it quickly. Now it was difficult not to call her Raven instead of Mother when he visited her and Mom.

Her face remained serious, but her eyes lit up subtly—just enough that someone who didn’t know her well wouldn’t notice. Kravitz sighed internally. “A friend?”

“We met—” No, he probably shouldn’t tell her how he and Taako came to know one another. “He’s the one I’m going to that wedding with. It’s not a big deal.”

The corner of her mouth tipped up in a knowing smile, and he knew she was going to gossip about this with Mom later. “Of course. Don’t keep the flowers waiting.” She disappeared into the office, shutting the door behind her. Mother always seemed to radiate such grace and poise. She almost glided as she walked. Kravitz felt too large and clumsy by comparison, no matter how much certain greasy-spoon frequenting YouTube chefs liked to tell him otherwise.

Pushing thoughts of Taako away again, he headed to the foyer of Queen’s Funeral Services. A young woman was standing in the middle of the room with a heavy looking vase stuffed full of flowers. He hurried over to her. “So sorry, Miss Sloane. Let me take those.” Sloane worked for Gaia Flowers, the best (if also pushiest) florist in Neverwinter. She mostly took care of deliveries, so she was well known around the various funeral homes in the city.

Sloane smiled tiredly at him as he took the vase. “Thanks. Hang on, there’s a wreath out in the van I still have to get.” She headed back outside and Kravitz gently placed the vase on a table specifically reserved for flower arrangements.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly checked it before Sloane came back. It was Taako again.

_theres a latte with ur name on it if u wanna come over later_

Kravitz’s heart warmed. He liked being Taako’s friend. Despite first appearances and several protestations to the contrary, Taako was a kind, mostly put-together man who was whip-smart and made Kravitz laugh in a way few other people had. Even when he was a fumbling disaster, there was something about him that drew Kravitz in. He was captivating. That was the only word for it.

Someone cleared their throat, and he fumbled his phone back into his pocket. Sloane stood in the open double doors, a wreath in her hands and a smirk on her face. He hurried to take it from her, flustered at being caught texting on the job. Her smile told him she’d definitely seen what he was doing, but her wink told him she wouldn’t rat him out. He tried to relax and gave her a shaky smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Sloane snapped her gum and backed out of the building with a mock salute. “Have a good funeral.”

It wasn’t a _funeral_, it was a _visitation_, but there was no point in trying to tell Sloane that. For one thing, she only said things like that to get under his skin, and for another she was already gone.

Kravitz quickly pulled his phone back out and finished his text to Taako.

Do you know how to make tea lattes?

~~~

“You are _the_ most pretentious dude,” Taako complained as soon as he opened the door for Kravitz. Kravitz laughed, having learned not to take Taako’s ribbing to heart, and slipped into the apartment.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been here. Taako had invited him over a few times, mostly because he was bored and didn’t want to cook for one or to watch Queer Eye together, something they’d discovered they both had a passion for soon after meeting. This meant Kravitz had already met Taako’s sister Lup and her boyfriend Barry, though he didn’t know them nearly as well as he knew Taako, and Lup kept giving him smug looks when they were in the same room together for reasons he couldn’t fathom. She was on the couch with her feet in Barry’s lap when Kravitz came in, watching a Cirque du Soleil show on TV while Barry read a thick book Kravitz couldn’t see from the door.

“Well, come on, pretentious dude,” Taako said, gesturing for Kravitz to follow him as he made for the kitchen. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Kravitz felt a nervous flutter in his gut at the words and quickly quashed it. That wasn’t what Taako meant—they’d _talked_ about that, and neither of them wanted a romantic relationship. He was being silly. “I don’t see how a tea latte is pretentious,” he countered, following Taako around the back of the couch. “At least, no more pretentious than a regular latte. They’re exactly the same, but one uses very strong tea and one uses espresso.”

Taako waved vaguely over his shoulder. “Exactly! Just drink bean juice like the rest of us, coward.”

Kravitz laughed, and when Taako looked over his shoulder at him he was grinning, too. “I had enough, ah, ‘bean juice’ in college to last me a lifetime, thank you.”

“Amen!” Lup shouted from the couch.

“Yeah, give me that amen again around exam time and we’ll talk,” Taako yelled back. “Don’t encourage her,” he said to Kravitz’s chuckle. “You don’t have to live with her.”

Kravitz settled into a chair next to the wobbly kitchen table as Taako faffed about with the frother. He was fascinating to watch in the kitchen. Kravitz had watched all of his cooking show twice already, entranced by the way he made everything look so easy. He’d assumed part of it was just the magic of editing, but after seeing how he cooked in real life, he felt he could safely say it was all Taako.

Lup loudly complaining about missing her calling as a fire eater in the other room snapped Kravitz out of his thoughts and he realized he was staring. He dropped his gaze to the floor as he wracked his brain for conversation topics. “Oh, by the way,” he said. “About the wedding.”

Taako’s back froze. “What about it?” he asked casually without turning around.

Kravitz swallowed. Had he said something wrong? “Nothing, just. You don’t think it would be rude to show up in just a shirt and tie, do you? I only have one suit for non-work occasions, and it hasn’t been dry cleaned in…” He trailed off, trying to remember. “A while,” he finally said.

The tension left Taako’s shoulders, and he turned to him, milk frother doing its business on the counter behind him. “Homie, I’m going in a dress I’ve had for three years and like sixteen scarves,” he said. “You can wear whatever the hell you want.”

Kravitz felt heat pool in his cheeks. “A dress?” He’d never seen Taako in a dress. He was always dressed fairly fashion-forward, to be sure, but he didn’t think he’d ever worn even a kilt in front of Kravitz before.

He would probably look stunning in one.

“Yeah, don’t even trip.” Taako’s tone had suddenly gotten defensive and Kravitz realized how he’d sounded. “I can wear what I want, it’s—”

“No, no, please, I don’t—I didn’t mean—I have no issue with that,” Kravitz interrupted, holding up his hands. “We have a male intern who wears a suit skirt to work sometimes. I just wasn’t expecting it, is all.” He swallowed. I think you’d look nice in a dress.”

Taako’s expression softened somewhat. “Hell yeah I do,” he said, preening and turning back to the frother as it beeped. “I got it for a thing a few years ago, but it still fits.” He smirked over his shoulder at Kravitz. “You should wear one, too. We can be the dress-and-scarf power couple.”

Kravitz choked. “Um, no, I—I don’t think I have the right, ah, figure. Body type. No thank you.” Was this flirting? No, Taako was just being nice. They’d definitely discussed the fact that they were just friends and nothing else already. So this wasn’t flirting.

Taako turned to fully face him again, head tilted and hands out, framing Kravitz like a photographer framing a shot. “Nah, you’d _totally_ look good in a dress.” He turned back around, leaving Kravitz to sputter by himself at the table. “But I always think more men should rock skirts, so maybe that’s just me.”

“I—yes. Right.” Kravitz loosened his tie, suddenly feeling very warm. He was starting to regret this topic of conversation. “How’s it going over there?”

“Fine, fine, I’m almost done.” Taako flapped a hand over his shoulder, waving him off. “You’ll get your pretentious tea drink when you get it.”

Kravitz watched him work in silence for a minute, chin in his hand and elbow propped on the table. Taako turned to him with two mugs, placing one in front of Kravitz and sitting adjacent to him at the table. “Well?” he said, and there was an almost nervous note to his voice. “What do you think?”

There was a perfect heart drawn in the top of the latte with milk foam. Kraviz swallowed a sudden swell of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him and make him do something stupid. He wasn’t sure what, but whatever it was would be dumb as hell. “I almost don’t want to drink it,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”

Taako preened again, but his cheeks turned pink this time. It made his freckles stand out, and Kravitz wanted to reach out and rub his thumb over them. He gripped his mug until it scalded his fingers. What was _wrong_ with him? “I mean, yeah,” Taako mumbled. “Thanks.”

Kravitz sipped his drink in lieu of saying anything else ridiculous, burning his tongue in the process.

~~~

Taako beamed at him from the other side of the counter. “Hey, handsome! What’ll you have?”

Like every time Taako complimented him, Kravitz felt the tips of his ears turn hot. “I’ll bet you say that to all the boys,” he drawled.

Taako winked. “Nah, just you. No, seriously though, what can I get you? I get in trouble if I talk to friends and family too casually for too long.”

That was bullshit, in Kravitz’s opinion, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. “Large English breakfast tea and two large dark roast coffees, please.”

He waited as Taako punched in his order. “By the way, do you want to come over sometime this week?” Taako asked. “The new season of Queer Eye just came out.”

Kravitz had already watched several episodes of the new season because he had no self control. “It did? Sure, I’d love that.”

Taako grinned at him. “It’s a date! That’ll be five sixty.”

Kravitz was halfway down the street with his tea and his mothers’ coffee before he realized Taako had referred to the two of them hanging out together as a date.

~~~

He didn’t bring it up.

He didn’t need to bring it up.

He didn’t _want_ to bring it up.

It wasn’t a _thing_.

~~~

Taako slid into the passenger seat, beaming. “Heya, hot stuff. How do I look?”

Kravitz sat speechless, staring at Taako. The silver-blue skirt of his dress came down to his mid-thighs in the front, fanning out and trailing longer in the back. The top was simple, silky, and black, with short sleeves that showed off his arms with their myriad jangly bracelets. And he hadn’t been kidding about the scarves, either. Kravitz counted at least six, all translucent and in different colours, draped and wrapped around him. It should have been ostentatious, but as was usual with Taako, it worked. He was wearing makeup, too, simple but just enough that it was obviously there, and his hair was twisted into a fancy updo instead of his usual ponytail.

There was only one word for him.

“Radiant,” Kravitz whispered hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “You, you look—that’s—_wow_, Taako.”

Taako fussed with his seatbelt, avoiding Kravitz’s eyes. “Well, thank you,” he said jovially. “I do try.” He winked up at Kravitz when he’d gotten the seatbelt on. The effect was somewhat undercut by the dark blush across his face and down his neck. “You’re looking mighty stunning yourself today.”

“Thank you.” Kravitz had opted to add a vest to his basic shirt and tie, figuring you couldn’t go wrong with a nice vest and watch chain. “Shall we?”

Taako gestured. “You’re the one driving bubelah.”

~~~

It was, by far, the weirdest wedding Kravitz had ever been to.

Granted, given his line of work he was more accustomed to funerals than weddings, but still. He’d never been to a wedding that had a tarantula as the ring bearer, or with spiders as a big part of the décor theme, or where one of the grooms (the one Taako pointed out as his friend Magic Brian) picked up and dip kissed the other at the end of the ceremony. They walked down the aisle to some kind of pop version of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, and they literally danced out of the building to a goth-pop song Kravitz vaguely remembered from high school. And, to his abject horror, they were both wearing patterned suits.

“Yeah, Brian’s weird,” Taako explained afterwards. They’d left the hall where the ceremony was held and were planning on sitting around in a coffee shop until they could reasonably start making their way to the restaurant where the reception would be. Brian had cried all over Taako when they got through the line to give them their congratulations, and Kravitz had made awkward eye contact with his new husband (he was embarrassed to admit that he’d immediately forgotten his name) and stood out of the way while it happened. “He fuckin’ loves that rancho of his. I fucking knew he’d find a way to get that sucker into the wedding somehow.”

“Rancho?” Kravitz asked.

“Yeah, Bryan-with-a-Y, the tarantula. Rancho. You know.” Taako shrugged, sliding into a booth. “These shoes are _killing_ me. I knew I should’ve bullied Lup into letting me borrow her boots.”

“They’re nice shoes,” Kravitz said. They were a muted rainbow pattern that almost matched his scarves.

“Thanks.” Taako took one off and rubbed his foot. “But I didn’t break them in properly, so the walk here _suuuuuucked_.”

Kravitz shook his head before getting distracted by the waitress asking for his order. A few minutes later, Kravitz had a small pot of tea and Taako had a large mug of coffee. “I don’t know how you don’t have a constant caffeine headache,” Kravitz remarked.

Taako laughed. “Learned the hard way to only drink one caffeinated coffee a day. The rest is decaf. Don’t tell Barry; he’s always on about my health and I let him think it’s a problem.” Kravitz chuckled. Taako leaned his chin in his hand and smiled at him, soft and open. “You’ve got a nice laugh,” he said.

“Thank you.” Kravitz smiled down at his tea.

“Hey,” Taako started, and then stopped. When Kravitz looked back up at him, his mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut and smiled at him again, but it wasn’t as open as before. “Thanks for coming to this with me. It would’ve sucked being here alone.”

Kravitz tilted his head. He could tell that wasn’t what Taako had wanted to say, but he wouldn’t push it. “Why’s that?”

Taako waved vaguely and took a long gulp of coffee. “Oh, you know,” he said. “I always find going to weddings by yourself weird? Usually I’ve got at least Lup with me, but here I know Brian and nobody else.”

Kravitz nodded. “I definitely understand that. I’ve gotten a lot better at socializing thanks to my work, but I still prefer to do it with people I already know if I have to do it at all.”

Taako lifted his mug. “Cheers to only talking with, like, five people if you can get away with it.”

Laughing, Kravitz gently tapped his mug against Taako’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

~~~

Kravitz applauded politely with everyone else as Brian and his husband separated after their first dance (another goth song Kravitz had never heard of). Even though he didn’t really know either of them, it was sweet to see how much they loved each other, and to listen to people talk about them in their speeches. They looked happy together.

When Taako originally asked him to come to this event, he’d been hesitant. He had barely known Taako for two weeks at the time; surely he could find another friend for his plus one invite? But he’d said yes anyway. Spending so much time at work was taking something of a toll on his mental health, and being around Taako seemed to help at least a little. Going to a wedding with him was just…another thing to do. And he knew now he’d made the right choice. His heart was light.

He didn’t realize he’d zoned out until he was jerked back to reality by Taako tugging on his hand. “Come on,” he shouted over the music, which was suddenly much louder than Kravitz remembered. “Let’s dance, bone man!”

“I’m—I don’t really dance,” Kravitz protested, but he let Taako drag him to the dance floor. Yet another pop song Kravitz didn’t know was playing, and he moved his feet to the music as best he could, trying to stay in sync with Taako. Taako laughed, putting his hands on Kravitz’s hips and trying to help him along. It was a perfect mess, and Kravitz was having a great time. They danced through three whole songs—none of which Kravitz knew, he needed to start listening to the radio more often—laughing and enjoying the hell of themselves.

Then the music changed to a song Kravitz did recognize—a slow, quiet tune, a perfectly schmaltzy wedding song that Kravitz liked to sing along with in the car. Taako stepped back a bit, and Kravitz realized just how close they’d been dancing. He bit his lip. Taako motioned towards the tables with his head. “Maybe we should—”

Kravitz grabbed his hand before he could go. “Wait,” he said, and he had no idea what the _fuck_ he was doing, “why don’t—why not this one, too?”

Taako stared at him, wide-eyed, searching his face for a long moment as other dancers either paired off or left the dance floor. “Okay,” he said, barely audible above the music. He moved back in, placing a hand on Kravitz’s shoulder. Kravitz rested a hand on Taako’s hip, taking Taako’s other hand in his, and started moving in a simple two-step.

Part of him was screaming, wondering what the hell he thought he was playing at. This was _Taako_, his friend Taako, they shouldn’t be dancing together like this! They were strictly platonic and had no plans for that to change! Why were they slow dancing like lovers?

Another part of Kravitz, a much louder part, _sang_, rejoiced, flooded him with warmth. He wanted this, _had_ wanted this, and the acknowledgement came as less a shock and more as an acceptance. Kravitz was in love with Taako, as much as he’d tried to deny it. Maybe he had been from the very beginning, from the moment he caught him wallowing in grave dirt.

And he had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

“Kravitz. Kravitz!” Taako was talking. Kravitz forced himself back to reality, even as his panic continued in the back of his mind like a soundtrack. “You good there?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz lied, voice cracking. He shook his head. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry; I think I zoned out for a moment.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot tonight,” Taako murmured, looking at his hand on Kravitz’s shoulder. “You aren’t bored, are you? I know there’s not a lot to do here besides dance and steal wedding cake—”

“No, I—wait, steal wedding cake?” he asked, amused. “Taako, they _give_ you that. For _free_.”

Taako flicked him in the shoulder. “Not the point.” There was a moment of comfortable silence between them. “You’re real good at this,” Taako said quietly.

“Better than I am at regular dancing?” Kravitz joked. His heart thundered in his ears.

Instead of laughing, Taako just smiled, leaning forward and wrapping his arm around Kravitz. His head rested on his shoulder, and they were pressed gently together. Kravitz’s breath caught. “Much better,” Taako murmured.

Kravitz’s mouth was dry. “Taako, I—”

The song ended, and couples started to separate around them as a bouncier tune came on again. Taako pulled back, smiling, but there was something off about it. He looked too sad. “Thanks for the dance, handsome,” he said, and his hand started to slip out of Kravitz’s.

Kravitz squeezed his hand tight, wracking his brain for something he could do. He didn’t want this moment to be over. He didn’t want Taako to move on not knowing how Kravitz felt.

He brought Taako’s hand to his lips and pressed the softest, gentlest kiss to the back of it.

Taako made a noise, and when Kravitz looked back at his face he had his other hand pressed over his mouth. He looked like he was on the edge of tears. “Don’t, he said hoarsely. “If this is some dumb gentleman thing—because holy fuck you have the whole suave gentleman bullshit down pat—if this is that, I don’t want it.”

Kravitz shook his head. “It’s not. I—Taako, I know we said—when we first met, we didn’t want to complicate things with romance, but—” He was gripping Taako’s hand with both hands now, words spilling out of him with no rhyme or reason as to what they meant. “I’m—I’m head over heels for you, Taako. I think I have been for some time.”

Taako stared for a long moment. Then he stepped back, tugging Kravitz with him, a shy, genuine smile on his face. Kravitz’s heart did a triple backflip. “Do you want to get out of here?” Taako asked.

Kravitz had never wanted anything more.

[ ](https://divinelark.tumblr.com/post/188237398056/image-description-an-illustration-of-taako-and)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * Once again YES I specifically put this song on the playlist so I could name a Taakitz chapter after it. Once again Griffin McElroy said I was valid.
>   * I actually own a milk frother/warmer which I use exclusively to make London Fogs and hot chocolate, because I hate coffee.
>   * According to my roommate, who works at a funeral home, funeral homes tend to be family businesses, hence why Kravitz got roped into it.
>   * Sloane was originally going to have a chapter dedicated to odd couple style shenanigans between her and Hurley, but I just wasn’t feeling it and I couldn’t get it to work out so I scrapped it. Originally it was going to involve Sloane making flower bombs.
>   * I’m a lesbian so I only know one way to write romance and it’s “but do they _like_ me though”
>   * Originally I was going to make this more clear but I couldn’t find a place to put it, but Magic Brian is so called in this universe because he does a magic show with his tarantula, Spider Bryan.


	10. Nothing Really Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merle and a "friend" have a pretty big difference in ideology...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen.
> 
> _Nothing really matters_
> 
> _Anyone can see_
> 
> _Nothing really matters_
> 
> _Nothing really matters to me_

Merle shut his eyes and let the wind ruffle his hair. It was a gorgeous day out, and he’d be wasting it not being outside. He settled into the café chair and tilted his face up to let the sun warm it. Yes, this had been a good idea. It was Thursday, and he still hadn’t finished his sermon for Sunday, plus he’d have the kids all weekend starting tomorrow so he wouldn’t have time then. A change of scenery was exactly what he’d needed.

He pulled out the notebook he wrote all his sermons in (a little dollar-store thing Mookie had given him for his birthday last year) and plopped it on the table. He stared at the blank paper for a long moment. Shit. He still didn’t have any ideas.

“Oh.”

Merle looked up to see a thin, pale man in a perfectly pressed suit standing on the other side of the table, holding a paper coffee cup in one hand and a briefcase in the other. His eyebrows were raised slightly, but other than that his face was blanker than slate as he stared at Merle. Merle cleared his throat. “Ah, hey, sailor,” he said. “Can I help you?”

The man blinked once, slowly, before tightening his grip on his briefcase and standing impossibly straighter. “No. Thank you. I apologise.” He turned to go.

“No, hey, wait a sec!” Merle waved his arm, trying to get his attention. The man turned back to him. “Did you need something?”

The thinnest, most strained smile Merle had ever seen pinched at the corners of the man’s mouth. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He gestured at the table Merle was sitting at. “I had hoped to use the chess table. That’s all.”

Merle lifted his notebook, realizing there was a checkerboard pattern built into the wooden tabletop. “Well, shit,” he said. “I didn’t even notice!”

“No, it’s fine,” the man protested. “Please don’t worry about it.”

“Nah, have a seat!” Merle had already tucked his notebook away. “You got chess pieces?”

“They’re in a box under the table—you _really_ don’t have to—”

Merle stood up. “Don’t worry about it! Your chess partner’s not here yet, are they?”

“Oh.” He shrugged, looking as close to uncomfortable as Merle had seen him. “I play against myself. That’s why I didn’t want you to trouble yourself.”

“Well shit!” Merle laughed, dropping back into his seat and grabbing for the box under the table. “How about you play me instead then? I’m Merle.”

The man didn’t move for a moment. “John,” he finally said, folding himself into the other chair. “Really, I don’t mean to intrude—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it!” Merle offered a black piece and white piece to John, who selected white. “I’ve got a bit of writer’s block anyway. Came here for a change of pace to see if that’d help, but so far nothing.”

“You’re a writer?” John asked politely, methodically setting up his side of the board.

“Preacher,” Merle corrected, doing the same with his black pieces. “Gotta give a sermon on Sunday, have zero ideas on what.” He shrugged. “I’ll come up with something. I always do.”

John’s paper-thin smile came back. “We have similar jobs, then. I’m a public speaker.”

Merle laughed, loud and hearty. “Well, fancy that! What’re the odds, huh?”

~~~

Merle didn’t make it back to the café again for several weeks. Mostly, he made his own coffee at church, and at home he either made herbal tea with homegrown mint and chamomile or went downstairs and harassed Taako into making coffee. Going out for coffee when he could just make it at home seemed wasteful and expensive. He grimaced every time he caught himself thinking that. Damn, he really was an old man. The church coffeemaker was broken, though, so if he wanted anything other than instant he had to go out.

There was a familiar face sitting at the chess table when Merle arrived. The thin man in the suit from last time—John?—was sitting ramrod straight, staring at the chess pieces with a look of deep concentration. Merle ducked inside the building before John noticed him and went to get his coffee.

John was still sitting like that when Merle came out, and if it hadn’t been for some of the chess pieces being in different positions he would’ve assumed he hadn’t moved. Merle waffled on whether to bother him or not. He looked like he was in deep concentration.

Quietly, Merle pulled out the chair across from John and settled himself in it. He sipped at his drink and waited.

It took a startlingly long time, but eventually John reached out to move a piece and suddenly noticed Merle’s presence. He flinched violently, banging his knee on the table and knocking over half the pieces in the process. “Shit—!” he hissed, scrambling to grab them before they rolled onto the ground. “Merle, ah, how long have you been there?”

“Oh, not long,” Merle said casually, hiding his smile behind his coffee cup. “You looked deep in thought over there. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

John looked down at his ruined chess game. “Well, you seem to have done so anyway.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Did you want something?”

“Just wondered if you’d like a partner again. Chess is a game for two, you know.”

He started setting up the chess board back to its starting position. “I don’t mind playing by myself. It’s a good mental exercise.”

“Sure, but it’s still _you_, you know?” Merle gave him a hand, pulling all the black pieces to his side and placing them in their squares. “You know all the moves you’ll make before you make them and all that. Throw in a little variety sometimes! It’s the spice of life and shit.”

A smile picked at John’s lips. “And shit? I thought you spoke for a living.”

“Yeah, but that’s all shit I write down beforehand. Sure, I _can_ spin stuff up off the ol’ domepiece when I need to, but I’m not being paid to right now so I won’t.”

“Oh, speaking of that. How did that sermon go?” John asked. He folded his hands on the table as he watched Merle finish setting up. “The one you were having trouble with last time we played.”

“Oh yeah, that one.” Merle shrugged, putting his last pawn into place. “It went fine. Wound up staying up late to finish it and it wasn’t my best work, but it got done. The one I did the week after that was miles better. Guess I was just having an off week.”

“Of course.” John nudged a pawn forward. “You’re always going to have up and down periods. You don’t seem like the sort of person who’s much bothered by his down periods, though.”

“Ech.” Merle shrugged and moved a pawn of his own. “I try not to. Harder than it looks, some days, but we all have them.”

John nodded, and they lapsed into silence again. It was uncomfortable. Suffocating. Somehow, despite outward appearing utterly neutral, John seemed to radiate a tight, smothering atmosphere unless they were talking. Merle kept quiet for a few moves, thinking.

“Tell me about yourself, John,” he finally said.

For a split second, John faltered, but he quickly recovered and put his knight down with a quiet _clack_. “I don’t think there’s much to tell,” he said smoothly. “My name is John, I’m a public speaker, I enjoy chess.”

“I already knew all that,” Merle scoffed. “I mean—here, how about this, we’ll take turns. I’ll ask you a question, and then you ask me a question.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Just…whatever comes to mind?”

Merle spread his arms like he was at the pulpit. “Anything you like. Ask away! I’m an open book!”

John watched Merle slide his rook a few spaces to the left before using his rook to capture it. Merle swore and John gave him that little smile again. “Alright. If that’s how you’d like to play it.”

~~~

After an hour, all Merle had learned about John was that he grew up in Neverwinter, he talked about “understanding and the pursuit of enlightenment” during his speeches, and he travelled a lot for work. He kept himself closed off, or at least relatively in contrast to Merle, but he was a pretty good conversationalist when he got going.

Merle stretched his arms over his head until his back popped. “Well, that’s one each. Best two of three?”

John checked his watch and shook his head. “I should get going—I shouldn’t keep you.”

“I’m in no hurry!”

He smiled, and while it was still a bit forced it seemed a thousand times more genuine than any other smile Merle had seen from John. “Be that as it may, I really should be going. Thank you for the game.”

“Right, sure.” Merle stood, the chair scraping against the concrete floor of the café patio. “Same time tomorrow?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but John looked taken aback instead of amused. “I—well, I _am_ always here at this time, unless I’m out of town. Any time you want to join me, you’re welcome to.”

~~~

It wound up becoming a routine. Even after the coffeemaker was fixed, more often than not Merle took a couple hours out of his day to walk down to the café and play chess with John. He wouldn’t go if it was raining, because he had to walk, but other than that he was there nearly every day.

It was pretty nice, honestly, to just sit and have a chat with another guy his age. Of course there was Davenport, his partner and best friend, and he loved talking with him and spending time with him. But almost everyone else Merle saw on a regular basis was at least a couple decades younger than him, and sometimes he just wanted to talk to someone from the same damn generation.

Despite that, Merle still didn’t know much about John, or at least nothing substantial. He talked about the weather, and some of the talks he gave, and occasionally he seemed like he was going to let something else slip, but he always caught himself with a rueful smile and captured one of Merle’s pieces instead. Merle wasn’t sure he even knew he was being cagey. As far as he could tell, this was just how John was.

“One more game?” John asked after they’d worked themselves into the second stalemate of the afternoon.

Merle shook his head. “Love to, but I shouldn’t. I’ve actually got something I need to help out with at work tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we’re having a chicken dinner fundraiser to fix up the roof. You’re welcome to stop by!”

Like he figured, John shook his head, carefully placing each chess piece back into the box one by one. “No, I’ll pass, thanks. I’m hardly one of your, ah, ‘regulars.’”

“That doesn’t matter! It’s for the whole community to get involved with! And it’s for a good cause.”

“A good cause,” John repeated. He sounded distant, like he wasn’t completely present in the conversation. “What _is_ a good cause, when it comes down to it?”

Merle blinked. “Sorry?”

John shut the box of chess pieces with a snap. “It’s nothing. Have a nice time.”

And just like that, the conversation was over, and Merle was left reeling.

What the _hell_ was that?

~~~

John didn’t mention it the next day, and Merle didn’t either. He’d mostly forgotten about it when John brought it up the day after that.

“About your fundraiser,” John said. He was studying the board intently, but from the sloppy way he was playing it was obvious that chess wasn’t what he was thinking about.

Merle frowned, confused. “Which one? The chicken dinner the other day? Or the Ladies of St. Pan quilt raffle? Oh, or the plant sale? We’re doing a plant sale soon, not sure if I mentioned it yet or not.”

“No, you have,” John said. There was a smile on his face, but not in his voice. “You keep trying to convince me to come…how do you put it? Adopt one of the little darlings?”

“What can I say? You seem like you need a succulent or two in your life.

John shook his head. “I suppose it’s about all of them, really. Are you—do you honestly, truly believe in all those causes you raise money for?”

“Sure.” Merle shrugged, watching John finally move a bishop. He immediately snagged it with a knight, only for John to bring in a rook and swipe it. “Ah, you bastard.” There was no heat behind it, and John’s smile grew a couple millimeters. “But yeah, sure, I believe in them. Wouldn’t spend so much time trying to raise money for them if I didn’t, right?”

“I see.” John was sitting perfectly straight, hands folded on the table in front of him, watching Merle intently. It would’ve been more unnerving if Merle wasn’t used to it by now. “What’s that like?”

The question threw Merle for a moment. “What’s it _like_? What’s what like?”

“Believing in something that strongly. Believing in a _cause_.” John picked up the knight he’d just captured, rolling it between his fingers almost absently. “To get up and go to work, every day, believing strongly that what you’re doing is not only good, but helping. To feel like what you’re doing makes a difference, in any way.”

Merle leaned forward, chess game forgotten. “John…is everything okay?”

“Answer the question, please.”

“I don’t think I _can_.” Merle folded his arms and rested them on the table. “I mean, look, I know there’s awful stuff in the world. I’d have to be either a complete moron or a willfully ignorant jackass to not know that. But, well, if nothing else, even if I can’t make the bad shit go away, I can work to make sure there’s more good shit.”

John didn’t say anything for a long moment, eyes distant. “I see,” he finally said.

“Do you?” Merle asked. “Because you don’t sound like it. What’s going on, John? We’re friends, you can tell me—”

“Friends?” John’s hands squeezed each other tight. “I don’t—we hardly know each other.”

“We’ve been playing chess together for weeks,” Merle reminded him.

“Well—yes—but—it isn’t just—it’s not so simple,” John said, “not for me.” He looked more and more agitated as he continued speaking. “There’s…friendship, Merle, love, all of that, it’s…it’s nothing. In the grand scheme of things, it’s just so _small_. Worthless. I don’t understand how you—how anyone can—” He cut himself off with a sigh. “I’m not sure what I’m trying to say.”

“I think I get the message,” Merle said. “Not sure I like it much, though. I’ve never been one for nihilism. You’re so focused on the big picture, you’re missing out on the important stuff that’s way closer.” Like ‘worthless’ friendship, he thought, but didn’t say.

John shook his head. “I don’t see it that way. I just can’t understand the point. The more things change, the more they stay the same, and there’s nothing worth anything. Call it nihilism, call it pessimism, call it what you will—”

“Who gives a shit?” Merle interrupted.

John flinched. “Excuse me?”

“I said who gives a shit?” he repeated. “I dunno, maybe this is weird for a priest to say, but whether there’s anything else beyond this, it doesn’t matter! We’re here, and we’re now, and what else are we supposed to do besides make our time and everyone else’s time less miserable? You gotta find what’s good for you, and take care of each other. I’m not—I’ll be honest, I’m not the best guy, and I’m definitely not the smartest. But does that matter? At the end of the day, what matters most is creating what joy you can in the world. Don’t you—don’t you _like_ to be happy?”

It was a simple question, in Merle’s opinion, but instead of an instant answer there was a long stretch where neither of them said anything. John was staring at his hands, and Merle was staring at John.

“Whether I like it or not isn’t the point,” John said eventually. He still wasn’t looking at Merle. “To exist—life, eternity, Merle, it’s all a trap, and it just goes in circles, endlessly. Pointlessly. It’s…it’s horrible. To exist, to live…it’s horrible.”

Merle stood up. “I think I’m gonna head out,” he said.

John blinked. “I—okay.”

“And when you see me next,” Merle continued, tucking his chair in, “you can apologise to me and tell me you were wrong.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry you can’t see it my way right now. But you will. In time, everyone does, I think. I’m just the only one who can put it into words.”

Merle dug a pen out of his pocket and scribbled Brad’s receptionist’s number on a napkin, sliding it across the table to John. “Thanks for the chess game,” he said. “And kiss my ass, you sanctimonious bastard.”

John said nothing, and Merle walked away.

~~~

Merle didn’t go back to the café for a week.

When he did, John wasn’t there.

~~~

Merle sat at the table in the church office, staring at the draft of next Sunday’s sermon. It was…fine. It was a perfectly serviceable sermon. He could deliver it on Sunday and feel good about it, probably. But he had the double problem of not being satisfied with it, but also not knowing what to do about it to make it the way he wanted. He pushed his notebook away with a sigh. It’d have to do.

He was distracted, and he knew exactly why. It had been three weeks since his argument with John, and he hadn’t seen him since. Merle had mostly avoided the café for a while, but even after he started going back—more to see if John was there than to actually get coffee—he still hadn’t seen him. He’d asked the staff at the café if they’d seen him, and no one had. It was more than a little concerning. Merle kept an ear out for any news about someone matching John’s description, pestering Taako’s new boyfriend for death-related news, but so far nothing. It was good, that meant he was probably okay, but still worrying.

Davenport was worried about him, Merle knew that. He didn’t think he was worried about Merle cheating on him or anything, not that Merle would in the first place. But he hadn’t gone off to sea for a couple weeks now, and sometimes he would gently take the newspaper from Merle when he was checking it in the evenings and suggest that maybe they go for a walk instead. He was so lucky to have Davenport there for him.

He wondered if John had anyone like that in his life. Probably not.

What was done was done, and there was no use stressing about it, but it was easier to tell himself that than to believe it. He was still pissed at John for calling their friendship worthless, too. But feelings were always complicated, Merle knew that better than anybody, and he knew you could easily be pissed at and worried about someone at the same time. It fucking sucked.

The rain drummed out a steady beat on the roof as Merle stood up and stretched. Maybe he’d go home early today. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and he had several new plants from the fundraiser to take care of back at the apartment. This was the kind of day best spent relaxing in your slippers and covered in blankets, anyway.

As he was locking up the office door behind him, he heard someone knocking. He lifted his head, frowning, turning to find the source of the sound. It wasn’t very loud—it was half a miracle he’d heard it at all—and it seemed like it was coming from the kitchen door downstairs. Who the hell could that be? Davenport didn’t come by the church, and neither did Taako, Magnus, or any of the rest of them. The kids should still be in school. Brogden and Cassidy both had keys. Someone from the congregation? There wasn’t a choir practise he’d forgotten about, was there? That’d happened more than once.

The knocking came again, a little louder and more urgent this time. “Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Merle called, shuffling off in the direction of the kitchen. “Keep your shirt on!”

He unlocked the door, and the knocking stopped. “Afternoon,” Merle said, opening the door. “What can I…do…” The rest of the sentence died in his throat.

John stood hunched on the other side of the door, his suit drenched, leaning on the doorframe. He looked bedraggled and scraggly and like an absolute wreck, and he was soaked to the skin. “Hi, Merle,” he said. His voice had a weird note to it. “Got a minute?”

“Jesus Christ,” Merle said, standing aside and hustling John inside. “What the hell happened to you? No, shut up, go sit down, I’ll—we’ve got some towels somewhere, hang on.” He shoved John into a plastic chair and started digging through the kitchen drawers for tea towels and dishcloths. “Take off your suit jacket; I’ll see if I can find any dry clothes somewhere. Christ, John, what are you _doing_ here?”

“I…” John’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again as Merle handed him a towel. “I needed to talk to you.”

Merle bit back the automatic “then where have you been for three weeks” response. “Okay,” he said instead. “Well, let’s make sure you don’t get pneumonia or whatever first.”

“I don’t think—”

“No, you don’t,” Merle said, turning and heading for the lost and found box. There were always a few spare sweaters and things in there. “You’re fuckin’ _drenched_! This—whatever’s up, it can’t be this important.”

“It is.” John had draped his jacket over the back of another chair, and was currently standing listlessly in the middle of the room, dripping water onto the linoleum. “Merle, please, don’t worry about all this.”

“Fuck you, I’m gonna worry.” Merle tossed John a sweater that was definitely at least three sizes too big for him and went to the counter to make coffee. “I’ve done nothing _but_ worry about your sorry ass for three weeks.”

John didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Merle finished with the coffee and left it to drip, turning to face him. He looked ridiculous, standing barefoot in the middle of the floor in soaking wet suit pants and a too-big yellow cable knit sweater, hands tucked up into the sleeves and head bowed slightly. His eyes were averted, refusing to meet Merle’s. The whole look would’ve been hilarious if Merle wasn’t in that special pissed-worried zone.

“Well, whatever, sit down,” Merle sighed, guiding him back to his chair and plopping down in another one across from him. “What’s going on, John? I haven’t seen you or even heard from you in weeks. Is everything okay?”

John took a breath. “I don’t know,” he said. “I—I came to apologise.”

Merle raised an eyebrow. “I know I said you owed me one, but I didn’t mean you should drag yourself here in a rainstorm to deliver it.”

“I had to. If I didn’t do it now I was never going to. I would have convinced myself not to, somehow.” He chuckled. It was flat. “So, that’s where I’ll start, I suppose. I’m sorry, Merle. I’m so, so sorry. You—this—us—it isn’t worthless. But I don’t think I knew exactly how much it meant to me until it was gone.”

He lapsed into silence again, tracing formless designs into the tabletop with a wet finger. Merle waited. “I told you what I do for a living, right?” he said eventually.

“Motivational speaker?”

“_Public_ speaker, but yes.” John folded his hands. “I told people what they needed to hear. I talked about understanding and enlightenment and broadening experiences. I thought I was making a difference.”

He paused. Merle cleared his throat. “Can’t help but notice you keep using past tense,” he said lightly.

“Mm.” John clenched his hands tighter. “I haven’t given any talks in close to a year.”

Merle stared. “A _year_?”

“I just couldn’t. I couldn’t keep going on the way I was.” He shrugged, staring down at the table. “I was going through the motions. I went out, I went home. I ate, I slept. I travelled different places and gave speeches. Sometimes I bought things, or went places I didn’t usually go.” He looked pleadingly at Merle. “There was _nothing_. I say words, but I don’t believe them. I think about all the things I could be or do or have and it all seems so horrible and pointless. Why am I here? Why are _any_ of us here? Living is—it’s so much _work_, and for what? What do we _get_ from it, in the end? I told people how to feel for a living, and I didn’t see how I could keep doing that when I felt _nothing_.”

Carefully, Merle reached over and put a hand on top of John’s. Something in him seemed to break and he hunched over, curling in on himself. “You—last time you spoke, you asked if I liked to be happy,” he said. There was a slight waver to his voice. “I don’t _remember_.”

“Shit,” Merle said quietly. He scooted his chair forward to get a bit closer to John, putting his other hand on John’s arm. “Look, hey, John, you—boy, you got a lot goin’ on in that head of yours, huh?”

“It feels like the opposite,” John said. “There’s nothing there. There’s nothing anywhere. It feels like I’m experiencing the world through heavy static.” He lifted his head, and he was smiling a little bit, and despite the fact that he looked like he was about to fall apart it was probably the most genuine smile Merle had ever seen from him. “That’s why I took up chess at the café. I needed to do something. Anything. Chess was something I could concentrate on that wasn’t completely monotonous, and it got me out of my house for a few hours a day.” His face softened the tiniest amount. “And then you showed up.

“I said before that I didn’t realize how much having you as a constant in my life meant until you were gone. I’m—Merle, I am truly sorry for what I said. You aren’t worthless. You mean more to me than any other part of my life, and I mean that. I’m sorry.”

Merle sat back and opened his arms wide, silently offering John a hug. Slowly, tentatively, like he was expecting to be shoved away any second, Jon gingerly leaned into him. “We’re here,” Merle said softly, “and we’re now. Nothing else matters. I’m…I’m sorry too, John. I didn’t understand what you were going through, and I pushed you away when you needed me most. I’m glad you came and told me all this. Here, c’mon.” He shuffled John back into his seat. “I’ll get you that coffee, and then it sounds like we have a lot to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * This chapter was originally called “Any Way the Wind Blows,” also from Bohemian Rhapsody, because I thought it was ~more poetic~ or something. No. Hammer that fuckin point home you dumb bitch
>   * I also considered using a line from Fred Penner’s “Take Good Care of Each Other” (either all or part of “we all need to feel wanted for the people who we are”) but scrapped it.
>   * In another universe, this would be the catalyst for John and Merle starting a romantic relationship, but I don’t really like Johnchurch so here we are.
>   * That said I love Merle’s relationship with John! This chapter was incredibly frustrating to write because I knew no matter what I did I’d never be able to write anything even approaching the quality of the actual podcast. I reread the transcripts for the John and Merle scenes so many times, and they make me so upset. The choose joy speech is so good, I have it on my wall at work, and I will never be able to write anything as good as what Clint Fucking McElroy came up with off the top of his head. I love this podcast so much you guys.


	11. Friday Night We'll Be Dressed to Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taako, Magnus, and Merle go for a guys night out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "The Boys Are Back In Town" by Thin Lizzy.
> 
> _Friday night we'll be dressed to kill_
> 
> _Down at Deano's Bar and Grill_
> 
> _The drink will flow and blood will spill_
> 
> _And if the boys wanna fight, you better let 'em!_

“Cheers!”

Magnus tapped his glass against Merle’s and Taako’s grinning. “God, it’s been a while since the three of us got together like this,” he said, leaning back against the booth seat. He looked around the Davy Lamp. “Old place still looks pretty good.”

Merle slammed his empty beer glass on the table, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand with a satisfied belch. “Thanks for letting us know Ren got her liquor license.”

Taako shoved Merle away from him. “Gross. Anyway, yeah, Ren’s been keeping it up real good. So.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers laced under his chin, a glint in his eye Magnus didn’t like. “Mags. You need to spill _right the fuck now_.”

And suddenly Magnus realized exactly why Taako had been so insistent on going out somewhere for drinks instead of just doing a beer run and staying in. If they were out, Magnus couldn’t kick up as big of a stink when the other two started prying into his life. “I…have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied.

“Don’t bullshit me.” Taako leaned across the table, half-standing to jab his finger into Magnus’s chest. “You’re _moving_.”

Merle’s mouth dropped open. “You’re what?!”

“Now fellas,” Magnus started, holding up his hands. “It’s not like that.” Taako flopped back in his seat, arms and legs crossed, staring at Magnus flatly. Merle looked between them nervously. “It’s just—well—Julia and I are looking to, uh, expand the family. As it were.”

Merle rolled his eye. “Oh, is that all.”

Magnus faltered. This wasn’t the reaction people usually gave when you told them your wife was having a kid. “Pardon?”

“I mean, you’re gonna have a hard time finding any apartments around here that’ll let you have a dog.”

“What, I—no!” Magnus covered his face with his hands and groaned. “It’s not always about dogs!”

“It usually is, with you,” Taako mumbled into his glass.

“Well, not this time!” Magnus folded his arms. “Look, we just—we need more space. Our little apartment isn’t going to cut it for us anymore, and it was only ever a temporary thing anyway. So we’re just looking at other options. That’s it! We haven’t even found a place to put an offer on yet.”

“Wowza, look at moneybags over here,” Taako said, “talking about buying a house and shit.” He paused, frowning. “That came out way more sarcastic than I meant it. Are you—are you for serious buying a house?”

“We’re not doing anything yet. We only just started looking, like, a few days ago—how did you even find out? We only told Julia’s dad.”

“I have my ways,” Taako said breezily.

Magnus scowled at him. “You mean you bullied Angus into telling you about the homeowner magazines in our mailbox.”

“I will not speak except in the presence of my lawyer.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Magnus rolled his eyes. “The point is, we’d rather get on it and start looking now so it’s not something _else_ to deal with later.”

Merle sat up straighter. “Why? What’s later?”

Magnus leaned forward, elbows on the table, grinning. “Julia’s pregnant.”

Immediately, Taako and Merle started whooping and yelling, shouting and laughing their congratulations as Ren hollered at them to pipe down from behind the counter. “Holy _shit_!” Merle said, laughing and slapping his hand on the table. “You son of a bitch! How long?”

“She’s due around Candlenights,” Magnus said proudly.

Taako counted something on his fingers, then waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, a Valentine’s baby, huh?”

Magnus kicked him under the table as Taako and Merle cackled. “Gross.”

“Well shit, no wonder you’re looking for extra space,” Merle said. “With a kid on the way _and_ a dog—”

“We aren’t getting a dog yet!”

“_Yet_,” Taako pointed out.

“Julia and I talked about it, and we decided we weren’t going to try and worry about raising a kid and training a dog at the same time.” Magnus paused. “Maybe when the kid’s a little older and we can pretend it’s to teach them responsibility or something.”

“So you’re gonna, like, build all the baby furniture from scratch, right?” Taako asked.

Merle nodded. “He’ll go out to the woods and chop down all the trees himself.”

“I will _not_.”

Merle cleared his throat. “But, uh, seriously, congratulations,” he said. “That’s—being part of bringing life into the world—there’s really nothing else like it. I know you two’ll be good parents.”

Magnus grinned, scratching the back of his head. “Thanks, old man.”

“Yeah, like, for real though.” Taako nudged his leg under the table. “Let me know if you want me to drop off food when you’re moving or dealing with the kid. Or just, like, come over and cook in general. I know you’re a fucking disaster in the kitchen—”

“I’m not _that_ bad,” Magnus protested. “I can follow a recipe!”

“You can’t live on fuckin’ frozen pizzas and Blue Apron for the rest of your life!”

“I use the cookbook you bought me! I can make sandwiches! I’m not a _complete_ disaster!”

“Kids, knock it off,” Merle grumbled. He fiddled with his empty beer glass. “Besides, don’t you have something you want to share with the class too, Taako?”

Magnus leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin in his hands innocently. “Oh?”

Taako looked mortified. “I don’t—who I date and what we get up to is none of your business—”

“Not that, dipshit!” Merle laughed. “We all know about that! A little firebird told me you’re gettin’ a new job!”

Magnus’s jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?! Holy _shit_, Taako! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Lup _told_ you?” Taako complained. “Geez, let a guy tell people his own news why don’t you?”

Magnus coughed conspicuously. “Right, yeah, only a real tool would harass their friend into telling them their good news. Right Merle?”

“Oh, for sure,” Merle confirmed. “Anyway. Taako. New job. Where is it?”

“Does this mean you’re quitting at Al’s or whatever?” Magnus added.

“Jim’s,” Taako corrected. “And yeah, I’m putting in my two weeks notice tomorrow when I go on shift. Gonna be an absolute _bitch_ of an employee for those two weeks, let me tell you.” He looked smug, leaning back in his seat with his arms folded and a smirk on his face. “I didn’t say anything because I wanted to wait until I’d at least put in my two weeks. But _somebody_,” he glared out the window to their apartment building across the street, “who I _love very much_, couldn’t keep her _goddamn mouth shut_ for three fuckin’ days! She’s lucky she’s my sister or I’d make her life hell.”

“There, there.” Merle patted his arm consolingly. “I’m sure you’ll make her life hell anyway.”

“I mean, she’s my sister; I don’t need an excuse.”

“So hey, you never actually answered the big question.” Magnus tapped the tabletop to get his attention. “Where are you gonna work after you quit Jim’s?”

“Here, actually.”

Magnus started, looking up to see Ren standing next to their table, a big grey dishpan full of dishes and cutlery balanced on her hip. She grinned at them. “Sorry, I was bussing tables and happened to overhear. Ash quit the other day, and Taako’s always had a place here if he wanted one and I, you know, could afford it.”

Taako threw up his hands dramatically. “And now _Ren’s_ stealing my spotlight, too! Can’t I tell _anyone_ my good news in peace?!”

“Absolutely not,” Ren said, picking up Merle’s empty glass and adding it to her pile. “Another round, boys?”

“Fuck yeah,” Taako said.

Merle elbowed him. “Be nice, she’s your boss now.”

Taako elbowed him back. “Fuck you, old man.”

Magnus laughed. Things were about to get kind of weird in all their lives—with him and Julia moving to who knew where, and Taako’s new job, and Merle’s, well, Merle. But he hoped they’d still always be able to find time to go out for drinks and dunk on each other like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN
>   * When I was starting to plan this project out, I knew I had to have a chapter dedicated to Tres Horny Boys. I feel like despite them being the main characters, there aren’t enough fics dedicated to their relationship. I love them.
>   * A running joke I have about this fic is “there are no dogs in the apartment building, they just run right off the dang thing.” LET! MAGNUS! HAVE! A! DOG!
>   * I feel bad that I don’t have a big thing for Merle to announce, but he’s at the age where most of his Big Milestones have already happened. The only thing I could think of would be dating Davenport, and I feel like he’s completely not subtle about that and everyone already knows. Pretend that there’s a future chapter like this one where he announces Mavis got into her dream college or something.


	12. You Never Need to Doubt It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry wants his proposal to Lup to be perfect. He enlists the only person who loves Lup more than him, Taako, to help him plan it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has art by Sloane! Go check her out on [Tumblr!](https://divinelark.tumblr.com/post/188280602956/image-description-an-illustration-of-lup-and)
> 
> Chapter title from "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys.
> 
> _I may not always love you_
> 
> _But long as there are stars above you_
> 
> _You never need to doubt it_
> 
> _I'll make you so sure about it_
> 
> _God only knows what I'd be without you_

Dr. Miller led Barry through the university halls, pointing out different rooms and giving overly long explanations of what they were for. Barry nodded along and followed, only half paying attention. Most of this stuff he wasn’t going to have to remember—he was a researcher primarily, a lecturer second, and he didn’t plan on leaving the office or lab he was assigned to if at all possible.

“And I guess this is your lab here,” Dr. Miller said, stopping outside a white door with a reinforced glass window. There were two nameplates in the metal slots next to the door. One, like Barry had expected, had his name on it. The other had originally had a name, probably, but it was so scribbled out in black Sharpie that it was completely illegible. The word “LUP” had been written overtop in whiteout.

Barry frowned. “Is…that my lab partner?” he asked.

Dr. Miller rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’ll be Lup. That’s the third nameplate she’s ruined like this; I don’t know why we bother replacing them—anyway, that’s the end of the tour, so go ahead and get settled. My office is across from yours if you need anything.” With a wave, he walked off before Barry could ask any more questions, like “where’s the bathroom” or “am I supposed to set my own office hours.” He figured Dr. Miller wouldn’t be much help there anyway. He seemed more interested in hearing his own voice than actually being helpful.

Barry opened the door. “Hi, sorry to intrude,” he started.

There was no one else in the room. Barry looked around, finding one empty desk and one messy one, several tables full of lab equipment, and a coatrack with two lab coats and a hat hanging from it, but no people. He figured Lup, whoever she was, was probably just out getting lunch or something and set about getting settled. He set his laptop bag down at the empty desk, opening one of the drawers to put his lunch bag in.

An explosion of confetti burst out of the drawer, and he yelped and stumbled back. Someone shrieked with laughter, and when he looked up he saw a woman on the other side of the room, crawling out from under the messy desk and holding her sides as she laughed. “Holy _shit_,” she said, still chortling, “I didn’t think you’d fall for it _that_ fast!”

Barry folded his arms, trying to look as stern as possible while covered in rainbow confetti. “And so you were just planning on hiding under there for…how long, exactly?”

She picked herself up off the floor, grinning ear to ear. “Okay, maybe I didn’t plan that far ahead. But I had to give you a good ‘welcome to the office’ prank!” She stuck her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “Name’s Lup. You must be Dr. Hallwinter, right?”

Barry cringed. “Call me Barry, please. I’ve never liked Dr. Hallwinter as, you know, a title.”

“Dr. Barry, then,” Lup said. Her nose crinkled when she smiled. It was cute. “So, like, you wanna blow off work and get coffee for a bit first? That’s what first days are, like, meant for.”

He shook his head, dusting confetti off his shoulders. “That’s—that’s very nice of you, Dr. Lup—”

“Oh Christ, _drop_ the doctor part _immediately_,” Lup said. Her lips curled up in a grimace. “I don’t let my students call me that, and I’m not letting you call me that either. That’s so fuckin’ _weird_.”

“Weirder than having students in the first place?” Barry asked. Lup seemed pretty young, maybe younger than him, and he was fairly young to have a position like this one. The concept of being in charge of a group of students’ learning was foreign to him, and he’d always wondered if it was a universal constant.

“Eh, kind of.” Lup shrugged. “See, _this_ is why we should go get coffee. We’re gonna be working together for God knows how long. We should at least, like, get to know each other or whatever.”

Barry shook his head again. “I…I think I’m just gonna dive right in over here. But, um, we could always take a break later, if you want.”

Lup sighed, and he was pretty sure he heard her mutter “nerd alert” under her breath. “Yeah, alright, whatever you say, Dr. Barry.”

“Just…just Barry is fine,” Barry said. “We’re colleagues, not—Barry is fine.”

She smiled and blew a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun out of her face. Barry swallowed. “Barry it is. Nice to meet you.”

~~~

“Taako, I need your help with something.”

Taako glanced over his shoulder, still stirring the pan on the stove. Whatever was in it smelled delicious. “What’s up?” he asked.

Barry came closer, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Lup wasn’t around. Sure, he’d deliberately waited until she was in the shower to have this conversation with Taako, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. “I’m—so. Lup and I have been dating for a while now.”

Taako froze for a split second, then went back to mixing the stir fry. “I mean, it’s only been like a year,” he said flippantly. “If you wanna call that ‘a while,’ then sure, but you dipshits spent way too long pining instead of doing anything about it. I’d call that ‘a while’ first.”

“Har har.” He knew Taako didn’t really mean it when he made fun of just how long it had taken Barry and Lup to get their act together. The worst part was that he couldn’t exactly tease Taako back, because he’d gotten together with Kravitz fairly quickly and in the most stupidly dramatic way possible, which he was exceedingly proud of. “Look, the point is—we’ve talked about it, and we both think—well, someday, we’d like to get married.”

There was a long moment where Taako didn’t say anything, just stirring the pan almost absently before turning the stove off. “I figured,” he said. “You two are pretty fuckin’ good together, not gonna lie. I did kinda wonder if you’d ever tie the knot or just go common law or what.”

Barry shrugged. “I mean, there’s all those tax benefits.”

Taako laughed and turned to face him, leaning against the counter with his arms folded. “God, I can’t believe you’re going to marry my sister, you giant _fucking_ nerd.”

“Well, I.” Barry flushed. “I haven’t actually _asked_ her yet.”

The smile fell off Taako’s face. “You what?”

“I haven’t—I mean we’ve talked about it, but I haven’t _proposed_.”

Taako pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, you—god _dammit_, Bluejeans, you gotta—there’s a fuckin’ _order_ to this shit!”

“I know, I’m—look, that’s why I’m talking to _you_ about it,” Barry explained.

Taako’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not asking me permission to marry her like some old timey rich asshole, are you?”

Barry looked at him flatly. “I think we both know Lup would find that incredibly insulting.”

“Good.” Taako turned away from him and started pulling down plates. “You may proceed.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, look, nobody knows Lup better than you. Everybody knows that. So I was—well, I was hoping you’d give me a hand.”

Taako set the plates down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “You want me to help you propose to my sister. Am I getting that right, Barold?”

Barry squirmed. When Taako put it that way, it did sound kind of weird. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I just—I’m sure she’ll say yes. I _know_ she’ll say yes. We’ve talked about it and everything—I already told you that—but I want the proposal itself to be a fun surprise, you know? Don’t think of it like planning a proposal for your sister. Think of it more like…planning the best day ever for your sister.”

Taako said nothing, scooping big portions of minute rice and veggie stir fry onto plates. The sound of the shower stopped. “Alright, you bastard,” Taako sighed. “You know how to hit a guy’s weak point. I’ll help you out.”

~~~

“I just don’t think that wearing denim every day is a very _professional_ look,” Lucas said. He was leaning in the doorway of Barry’s office, arms folded. Barry closed his eyes to keep himself from rolling them. “That’s all I’m saying!”

“I was under the impression that Neverwinter U doesn’t have a real dress code,” Barry said evenly. “As long as we don’t show up in anything offensive, I don’t think the Dean cares.”

“Be that as it may,” Lucas countered, “you know you—the kids have some…_unsavoury_ nicknames for you because of your jean habit.”

Barry leaned forward, folding his hands on top of his desk. “Are you referring to the ones who call me Dr. Bluejeans?”

Lucas wrinkled his nose like the nickname physically stank. “It’s disrespectful.”

“Yeah, Lup came up with it.”

Lucas faltered. “Pardon?”

“Lup came up with it. She just started calling me Bluejeans one day, and it stuck.” Barry shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. I kinda like it. I’d rather be Bluejeans than Hallwinter, that’s for sure.” He looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I wonder if I could get my nameplates changed.”

To his great satisfaction, Lucas looked horrified.

~~~

Taako had his head in his hands. Barry squirmed. “What do you _mean_ you don’t know what her favourite restaurant is?!” Taako asked incredulously from behind his hands.

Barry shrugged helplessly. “I mean—I know places that we go to eat all the time, but I don’t know what her _favourite_ is! Every time I ask, she says your food is her favourite and that’s sweet but not helpful.”

“Geez.” Taako sounded annoyed, but fond. He rubbed his temples and looked at Barry. “Alright, so maybe just pick a nice restaurant that you know she likes and get her to go there. When’s your next day off together?”

“Thursday.”

Taako nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, so pick a place, see if it takes reservations, book one for Thursday if you can, and get back to me. Now then.” He laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “Dinner is the easy part. The _hard_ part is making the rest of the day Lup’s best day ever without her getting suspicious or thinking something’s up.”

Barry nodded. “Right. I’m already thinking that we just spend the morning doing whatever we want around here? Maybe breakfast in bed?”

Taako shook his head. “Breakfast in bed is too suspicious. That’s something you, like, never do, so that’d raise a lot of alarm bells probably. I like the lazing around all morning thing, though; she _hates_ getting up early.”

“Don’t we all,” Barry sighed. “Okay, so not breakfast in bed, but I might still make pancakes.” Taako grimaced. “Lup _likes_ my pancakes, okay, Mister Picky?”

“You overcook them,” Taako said dismissively. “But sure, yeah, that’s something you do sometimes that’s rare enough to be unexpected but not buckwild enough to make her think something’s up. Breakfast in general works.”

The sound of water running in the bathroom shut off, and Taako stood to deal with his potatoes before they boiled over. “Make yourself useful and get plates for me, will you? And get on that restaurant thing later, too.”

~~~

Barry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Lup looked up from the paper she was marking, dark circles under her eyes. “Sup?” she asked groggily.

He shook his head, yawning wide enough to nearly crack his jaw. “I think maybe it’s time we packed it in, don’t you?”

“Speak for yourself,” she said. “I’m great.” Her makeup was smudged from rubbing her eyes, and there were more empty coffee cups between them than Barry cared to count. She yawned, then grimaced. “Now look, you’ve got me going too. Thanks a bunch.”

“No problem.” Barry glanced at the wall clock. “Lup, seriously, I think we should quit for the night. I’ll walk you home if you want—”

She giggled, and it was a little tired and a lot adorable. “Why, you’d do that for me? Oh you sweet thing,” she tittered, putting on a horrendous southern belle voice.

Barry shrugged, too tired to be flustered like usual. “We’ve walked home together before. Your place is on the way to mine. It’s not a big deal.”

Lup stopped laughing, looking at him strangely. She looked down at the paper she was marking and stood up suddenly, her chair scraping the floor. “You know what, fuck it. C’mon, I’ll let you crash on my couch.” She started gathering up her pile of exams and evaluations.

Barry stood too, grateful that he wouldn’t have to leave alone. “That’s alright, my place isn’t that far,” he lied. It was a good hour’s walk from the university. Usually he took the bus, but that wasn’t an option at three in the morning.

“Oh, shut up,” she said easily, coming around the table they were working at and heading for the door, patting him on the cheek as she went. It was probably supposed to be a sweet gesture, but she mostly just dragged her hand across his face. “Let’s go back to mine, and tomorrow we can work from home. Fuck this.”

Barry hesitated. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t tell her that his reluctance was because he had a massive crush on her. They’d known each other for nearly a year now, and he’d fallen for her somewhere around month six. He didn’t want it to come out that he liked her and for her to think he’d just used their work relationship to force a romantic one.

She turned to him, lab coat hung up on the coat rack, hair tugged free of its ponytail and hanging loose and messy around her shoulders, smudged makeup and dark circles and all. “What’s up?” she asked. “Do you want to come with me or not?”

There was no answer but yes. There had never been any answer but yes.

~~~

“Hey, babe? You still wanna get married, right?”

Barry rolled over to face Lup. She was lying on her side, facing him, blankets pulled up over her shoulders. Her voice was quiet, and more than a little sleepy. “Yeah, of course,” he said, reaching out to brush his thumb across her cheek. “Go to sleep.”

“It’s just,” she said, struggling to sit up. “She wound up propping herself up on one elbow, the blankets slipping off her shoulders to pool around her waist. “Like, I wanna get married real bad. But if you don’t, like, that’s cool, it’s a piece of paper and whatever, but I—well—I want _bragging rights_.”

Barry chortled. “Bragging rights?”

She grinned, holding out her left hand and wiggling her ring finger. “I wanna be able to point to this bitch right here and be like ‘fuck yeah, Dr. Sexy Dad Bod over there did that. See him? Fuck you he’s _my_ boy.”

He laughed, grabbing her and dragging her into a hug. Lup giggled, smooshing her face into his chest. “Then _I_ get bragging rights too. I get to tell everybody that my wife is a doctor and she’s funny and messy and beautiful.” _My wife_. The words sounded right coming out of his mouth. He said them again, softly, kissing the top of her head, thinking about the ring in his sock drawer, the ring he was giving her tomorrow.

“Nerd,” she said fondly. She kissed his neck. “Love you, babe.”

Barry squeezed her tight, then let go so she could squirm back and get comfortable again. “I love you too.”

~~~

Barry walked into Lup’s office, reading over a file. “Lup, you won’t _believe_ the bullshit Edward and Lydia just sent me,” he started, then he paused. She wasn’t there. After quickly checking under her desk to make sure she wasn’t pulling a prank on him again, he left, dropping the file off on his desk before heading towards the classroom she usually held lectures in. The file had just been an excuse anyway. He hadn’t thought she had any classes today, but maybe he was wrong. It wasn’t like he’d memorized her work schedule or anything, and even if he had it was only because they worked so closely together and not because he wanted to know when it was and wasn’t a good idea to ask her out for lunch.

They’d known each other for four years now. Barry spent more time at her apartment, hanging out with Lup and her brother and their friends than he did at his own place. He liked all of them, which was good, because when he’d first moved from Phandalin to Neverwinter he’d been afraid that Lucas would be his only friend because he was the first person he’d talked to. But no, he had friends now, a whole support network, and it was mostly Lup’s fault. Barry was living his best life, even if he couldn’t work up the nerve to ask Lup out directly. It was fine. That was fine. He didn’t need to date Lup to be happy—he was just glad she was in his life. No matter what happened, he hoped that never changed.

A gaggle of university students was streaming out of the lecture hall, talking and laughing and breaking off into smaller groups. Barry waited until the herd had thinned a bit before ducking inside. Sure enough, there was Lup at the front, chatting with a group of students. He maneuvered to the side so she could see him and waited. He didn’t want to interrupt.

After a few minutes of intense discussion, she looked up and noticed him. The smile she gave him outshone the sun, and she quickly turned back to her students. One of them, a young woman he recognized from one of his labs as Noelle, noticed Barry as well, and she shooed Lup towards him with a knowing grin. To his surprise, Lup seemed uncharacteristically flustered by this, smacking Noelle’s hands away before quickly excusing herself and walking towards Barry. “Hey,” she said. Some of the students she’d been talking to whooped, and she ignored them. “What’s up?”

“Um, is—is everything good over there?” Barry asked, peering around her. The students cheered.

“_Please_ ignore them,” Lup said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the lecture hall. Her face was red. “They’re just—they’re meddlers. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, what’s up, big guy?”

“Oh, uh.” Her hand was warm on his arm. She hadn’t let go after they’d left the room, and now they were standing in the hallway with their arms linked like some kind of proper upper-crust couple from the 1900s. “I just—well, it’s a bit late for lunch, but you probably didn’t eat, right?”

Lup grimaced. “Is this a lecture, Dr. Bluejeans? I’d bet money you didn’t eat yet, either.”

“No, no lecture,” he said hastily. “Just two colleagues, going for lunch. How about it?”

She smiled and linked arms with him properly. “Bet you ten bucks I can eat more cheese fries than you.”

“Lup, you know I’m lactose intolerant, right?”

“Yeah? So? Then it’s an easy ten bucks!”

~~~

A plate appeared in Barry’s line of vision, and he looked up from his book. Lup stood in front of him, holding two plates of cheesy rice casserole. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I used the lactose-free stuff.”

Smiling, Barry put his book aside and took the plate. “Thank you,” he said as she settled onto the couch next to him. “You didn’t have to make this.” Cheesy rice casserole was one of his favourites, but he never got to eat it.

“Eh,” she said with a shrug. “Call it thanks for the pancakes this morning.”

Barry stuck a forkful of rice in his mouth without saying anything. Maybe Lup thought she was being nice, but today was supposed to be all about _her_ being catered to and feeling special. He felt kind of dumb that he hadn’t even thought about lunch, despite having breakfast and dinner covered. It probably didn’t help that half the time they both forgot to eat lunch until late afternoon because they both got so busy with work. Taako always teased them about it.

“I was thinking,” Lup said, poking at her lunch. “Do you want to go out somewhere this afternoon?”

Barry swallowed. “Yeah, sure, yeah. Did you—what did you have in mind?” His heart was pounding. He and Taako had talked about the two of them going paintballing. Maybe Lup had the same idea already.

“It’s hot as _balls_ out,” Lup said. “We should go swimming.”

He stared. Lup hardly ever suggested going swimming. Public changerooms stressed her out. She went with him to the pool, but only sometimes, and rarely on her own suggestion. “Are…you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “Because I was thinking paintball.”

She squinted at him. “You hate paintball.”

“I don’t _hate_ paintball,” he protested. “I just…I hate that I’m not _good_ at paintball. There’s a big difference.”

Lup looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I mean. I don’t see a good reason why we can’t do both.”

He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I knew you were the smart one in this relationship.”

She laughed and nudged him. “Yeah, whatever, Dr. Bluejeans. Eat your casserole.”

~~~

“Hey.”

Lup had both her hands planted on Barry’s desk, and was leaning over it, staring at him intently. Her lips were slightly parted, and Barry mentally chastised himself for looking at her lips, instead making eye contact and attempting a smile. “Hey yourself. What’s up?”

“Are we stupid, or just stubborn?”

He paused. That was not where he’d thought this conversation was going, though in fairness he hadn’t had a single clue where it was going in the first place. “Pardon?”

“Barry J. Bluejeans,” Lup said. He chuckled. “Dr. Bluejeans.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Barold.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ew, no, okay, I draw the line at that one, that’s what your brother calls me—”

Lup gently laid a hand over his, and his breath caught in his throat. “Barry,” she said softly. “I think—okay, look, we aren’t stupid. Neither of us is stupid.”

Barry nodded. He didn’t totally trust himself to speak yet.

“But, I mean, stubborn? Are we stubborn? Because I think we’re—or at least I’m being stubborn and not—ugh, I don’t know.” She squeezed his hand, and he turned it over to squeeze hers back. “I’ve been avoiding admitting this, but I really, _really_ wanna smooch your brains out.”

He felt his jaw drop. “You—what?” he whispered hoarsely.

“And like, maybe it’s kinda dumb,” she added, “but I’ve wanted that for a long time? Like, maybe a couple years, give or take? And I just, you know, haven’t _done_ anything about it. Because I’m stubborn, I guess. I didn’t want to admit I liked you because—I don’t know, that’s losing? I guess? God, I don’t know, but I _do_ know I wanna smooch your brains out and then maybe also like go on some dates or something. What do you—”

Barry was on his feet and kissing Lup in a matter of seconds, and it was awkward with the desk between them, and Barry hadn’t shaved in a couple of days so it was probably weird and scratchy for her, and it only lasted a few seconds. It was perfect. They broke apart, and Barry couldn’t imagine her first kiss happening any other way. Lup was grinning, and Barry could feel himself grinning, and she ran around the desk to throw her arms around him in the tightest hug he’d ever had. He buried his face in her shoulder, laughing and rocking them side to side, and she dug her fingers into his back and peppered kisses all over his head and neck and the side of his face.

“God,” she murmured in his ear. “Taako’s going to make fun of me until the end of time.”

~~~

The ring box was heavy in Barry’s pocket. He sipped at his ginger ale, praying that Lup wouldn’t notice how quiet he was tonight. He hadn’t been able to get a reservation, so instead they’d opted to go to their favourite Italian place, because Lup was craving pasta with “ungodly amounts of cheese” and Barry just really, really wanted to go to town on some Italian wedding soup. The irony of his craving didn’t it him until they got to the restaurant, but he’d take it.

If Barry was quiet, Lup didn’t seem to notice, because she was chatty enough for the both of them. She commented on the new menu items, the décor they’d seen a thousand times, the flooring, everything. She only stopped talking when their meals arrived, and even then she radiated a nervous energy. Barry stirred his soup and tried not to let his own nerves show. Had she figured it out? Did she know what he was planning for tonight, and that was why she was nervous? He wanted it to be a surprise. Lup deserved so much—she deserved at least that.

They pushed their dishes away at almost the same time. Lup still had about half her tortellini left, but she usually boxed up half her meal for lunch the next day anyway, so that wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

Oh, god. This was it. This was the moment. Barry reached across the table to take her hand. “Lup,” he said as quietly as he could in a crowded restaurant. “You’re—you are so special to me. You know that, right?”

She squeezed his hand, a smile on her face that was no less genuine for its nervousness. “You too. You’re my boy, Barry. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Taking a deep breath, Barry slid out of his chair and knelt to the floor on one knee—

And nearly had a heart attack when Lup did the _exact same thing_.

They stared at each other for a long moment, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Then Lup burst out laughing, and Barry did too, and they were laughing and hugging each other on the floor of an Italian restaurant, and people around them were staring, and it didn’t fucking matter. Because here they were, two people so incredibly in sync that they’d had the exact same _fucking_ idea.

“Did Taako—” Lup asked as she pulled back.

Barry nodded. “We both—I think we both asked the same person for advice.”

“That _fucking_ troll,” Lup said fondly. “Hey. On three, how about that?”

He grinned and dug the ring box out of his pocket as Lup pulled hers out of her purse. They held them out towards each other. Lup counted down, and they both opened their boxes at the same time.

They didn’t say anything else, just started laughing and hugging each other again. They helped each other off the floor to the confused applause of the wait staff and other patrons. They exchanged rings, still giggling, and okay maybe Barry’s needed resizing, but it wasn’t a huge deal.

Barry kissed Lup, and Lup kissed him back. It had taken a long time to get them to this point, and Barry wouldn’t have changed a single damn thing.

[ ](https://divinelark.tumblr.com/post/188280602956/image-description-an-illustration-of-lup-and)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * The fact that the Bioshock Infinite soundtrack isn’t on Spotify so I can’t use the barbershop quartet version of “God Only Knows” on my playlist is homophobia. Don’t get me wrong, the original slams my fuckin “yearn” button too, but the barbershop quartet version is so good. [Here’s a link to it.](https://youtu.be/x7ogV49WGco)
>   * These were originally going to be two separate chapters: a chapter about Lup and Barry’s relationship told in flashbacks, and a chapter about Lup and Barry both separately wrangling Taako into helping them propose. Then I wound up combining them and in my ~totally unbiased~ opinion, I think it works better this way.
>   * At some point Lup will realize there is nothing stopping them from referring to themselves as “Dr. and Dr. Bluejeans.” Across town, Lucas Miller feels a chill run down his spine and doesn’t know why.
>   * I do want to make it clear that Lup didn’t cover up her nameplate with Sharpie because it had her deadname on it or anything, it was because it said “Dr. Lup” and she doesn’t like that much (whereas “Dr. and Dr.” is a huge power move).
>   * Barry J. Bluejeans Drinks More Respect Women Juice Than Any Other Person I Know Except Maybe Magnus Burnsides
>   * “He didn’t need to date Lup to be happy—he was just glad she was in his life. No matter what happened, he hoped that never changed.” :3c
>   * God they are in LOVE


	13. My Memories of Love Will Be of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Perhaps Love" by John Denver and Plácido Domingo.
> 
> _Perhaps love is like the ocean_
> 
> _Full of conflict, full of pain_
> 
> _Like a fire when it's cold outside_
> 
> _Thunder when it rains_
> 
> _If I could live forever, and all my dreams come true_
> 
> _My memories of love will be of you_

Julia reached for Magnus’s hand and squeezed it. His hand shook under hers. She couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to take in, a huge step in both their lives, but they both knew it was the right choice to make.

“So I need you both to sign here,” Mr. Garfield said, drawing an X next to a couple lines, “and we’ll be all set to go.”

Magnus leaned forward and signed, and Julia released his hand when he offered her the pen. If her teacher-perfect signature was a little shakier than usual, well, maybe she could blame Magnus. She pushed the paperwork back over to Garfield, who gathered it up, tapped the pile on the table to straighten it, and smiled at them.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Burnsides,” he said. “You’ve just bought a house.”

~~~

Mommy was on the phone. Mookie bounced around her. “Lemme talk to Daddy! Lemme talk to Daddy!” he hollered.

“Mookie, that’s enough,” Mommy said sternly. “I’m talking to Daddy right now. You can have your turn in a minute.”

He plopped down on the couch, still bouncing. Mavis sat at the other end of the couch, pretending to read, but she kept peeking up from her book at Mommy. “What’re they talking about?” Mookie asked as Mommy left the room.

Mavis shook her head. “I don’t know. Dad never calls Mom if he doesn’t have to. I hope everything’s okay.” When Mookie’s face fell, she hastily added “I’m sure it’s fine, though! Don’t worry about it!”

Mookie wiggled for a few seconds before popping up and following Mommy into the other room. She had her back to him and was talking in a quiet voice. “Can I talk to Daddy now?” he asked.

Mommy jumped and turned to face him, a hand pressed to her chest. “Lord, Mookie, don’t startle me like that! Hold on just one minute.” She turned away form him again and said a few more quiet things to Daddy. Mookie tried to be patient and hold still like a good boy, but he was too excited. He started bouncing on his toes again when Mommy turned back to him and handed him her phone with a smile. “Just a quick conversation, okay? And then let Mavis have a turn when you’re done.”

He grabbed the phone, bright-eyed and beaming. “Hi, Daddy!” he shouted.

“Hey, kid!” Daddy said. “Tone it back there, sport, you don’t have to yell. I can hear you just fine.”

“Daddy we’re coming over this weekend!”

“I know! Davenport and I are gonna pick you two up from school again.”

Mookie’s grin widened. “Can we go for ice cream again?”

Daddy chuckled. “No, I don’t think we’ll do that this week, bud.” Mookie pouted. “But hey! Good news! It’s a long weekend, so I asked Mommy if you and Mavey could stay for Sunday dinner. She said yes, if—”

“_Mavis_!” Mookie hollered, running back into the living room. Mavis looked up from her book, bewildered. “Daddy said we can stay for dinner on Sunday!”

“_If_ you two get all your homework done while you’re over here,” Daddy added. “So Mookie—Mookie, listen, bud, you make sure you bring home your reading book this weekend, alright? I know you forget sometimes, but it’s really important this time, okay? Sunday’s gonna be real busy with church and dinner and stuff, so we’ll read together on Saturday. How about that?”

Mookie was nodding. “Okay! Yeah! I’ll see you then, Daddy! Bye!”

“Wait wait don’t hang up let Mavis have a—”

Mookie handed Mavis the phone. “Daddy said hi!”

Mavis took it with a small smile and held it up to her ear. “Hey, Dad.”

~~~

Ren gave a long, slow whistle as she looked around the kitchen. “Damn, Taako,” she said, “you’ve been here for what, two days?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her and shrugged. “Something like that, yeah.”

“And you’ve already overhauled the entire kitchen.”

Taako smirked and turned back to the stove. “What can I say? I’m a particular guy.”

She shook her head and headed for the walk-in fridge. “I’d say more of a stickler for details, maybe even a snob, but whatever.”

“Hey, I’m not a snob!” Taako protested. “I know what I like, that’s all!”

Ren rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

“Oh, yeah, shit.” She stuck her head out of the fridge, cradling several blocks of cheese. “I hate to ask right after being hired, but, uh. Can I switch my Sunday shifts?”

Ren ran over the schedule in her head. “I can’t see why not. Like, permanently, or just this week?”

“I mean, permanently if possible.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but he was very deliberately not looking at her as he talked, poking at the eggs he was frying with his spatula. “I was—we do a thing on Sunday nights, so I was just thinking maybe working Sunday morning instead of Sunday night would mean I could still be there for it, you know?”

“That’s fine, yeah.” Ren didn’t mind working the Sunday night shift. It was usually pretty quiet aside from a few regulars. Sunday morning was the real hell shift, with all the grey-hairs coming in for brunch after church, but if Taako was willing to take that on she wasn’t going to complain. “What’re you up to?”

He cleared his throat, and it was hard to see his face from where she was, but she was fairly certain it was bright red. “I mean, well. This weekend? I’m showing off my boyfriend.”

~~~

“Careful, it’s hot.”

Taako took the mug from Lup gratefully, tucking his feet up so she could sit at the other end of the couch. Lup cupped her hands around her mug and snuggled in so the arm of the couch was pressed against her back. “So,” she said. “Barry told me how you deliberately fucked up our engagement.”

“I did no such thing,” Taako said primly. “If anything, I _improved_ it.”

She kicked him. “You’re an asshole.”

He grinned. “But you looooooove me.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She tucked herself into the corner of the couch and sipped her tea. She’d always had a higher heat tolerance than him, or most people in general. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Taako blowing on his tea, Lup sipping hers. “Hey,” she said after a while. Taako looked up at her. “You’re not—this is still really new, but it’s not gonna change anything. We’re not getting married for a while.”

“Yeah, it takes forever to get shit booked and stuff, I get that—”

“No—well, that too,” she admitted. “But I mean, look, even once we’re married, I don’t—we aren’t leaving you.” She nudged his ankle with her foot. “You know that, right?”

Taako was quiet for a while, looking into his mug. “I talked about it with Brad last week,” he finally said. “Cuz, like—Barry’s a great dude. You know I love that guy. And you guys are—” He swallowed. “You’re the most important people in my life. But I’ve never _had_ a life without you, Lulu. I’m kinda scared to find out what that’s like when you guys get married and leave.”

“Hey, no. Hey.” She sat up and leaned forward, putting a hand on Taako’s knee. He grabbed it and gripped it tight. “Taako, we’re not _leaving_ you. I’ll _never_ leave you. Even if we don’t live together anymore, I’ll never leave you. I couldn’t. You’re my heart, Taako. I could never leave my heart behind.”

“I mean. I _know_ that.” He squeezed her hand.

“Besides, you’ve got more than just me now. There’s Magnus and Ren and Angus—and Kravitz,” she added with a grin, “and everybody else. You’ve got all of us, and you’ll _always_ have all of us. We’ll always have each other, no matter what. No matter what, you’re never going to be alone again.”

He snorted, but took his hand back from hers to wipe stubbornly at his face. “You are super fuckin corny, you know that?”

She sat back, a hand pressed to her chest in mock horror. “How rude, sir! Here I am, trying to be nice! Maybe I won’t ask you to be my man of honour now!”

“I’m still gonna be your—is that what we’re calling it?” Taako said. “Whatever, I’m that. That’s like, a fuckin’ given.” He sipped his tea and immediately spat it out, gagging. “What the _fuck_?! Is that _salt_?!”

“That’s for fucking up our proposals,” Lup said, getting up and retreating to the kitchen while Taako was still preoccupied.

“You’re an asshole!” he shouted after her.

“But you _looooooove_ me!” she called back.

~~~

Killian sat up and stretched, yawning. She was still tired, but a ten minute power nap had been exactly what she’d needed. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around the living room for Carey. When she didn’t find her, she stood and headed for the kitchen. She was pretty sure she knew exactly where she was.

Sure enough, Carey was bent over the kitchen table, pouring over their wedding checklist. Killian pulled out a chair next to her and started reading over her shoulder. “Hi,” Carey said, not looking up. “You have a nice nap?”

“Yeah, it was good. What’s up?”

Carey sighed, leaning away and running his hand through her hair. “Taako called while you were asleep. Apparently he’s got a new job and he’s worried it might interfere with catering the wedding.”

Killian grimaced. “Well, shit.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, too. So I’m just going over some options for if he has to drop out.” She tapped her pen against the tabletop. “From what he was saying, it didn’t sound likely—his new boss is pretty chill, I guess, and she’d probably give him the day off and whatever. But I just want to be prepared if he says it won’t work.”

Killian leaned over and kissed Carey’s temple. “Babe, it’ll work out. We’ll figure something out if the time comes. C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

Carey leaned into her, accepting a few more kisses before standing up. “You’re right. Okay. Let’s get going.” She held out a hand to help Killian up, and Killian let her pull her to her feet.

They held hands as they left their apartment, walking downstairs to Taako and Lup’s.

~~~

The kitchen wasn’t made to hold so many people. Taako barely had room to maneuver, not helped by the fact that Merle’s kid was always underfoot, asking what he was doing and why and how. He was grateful for Magnus’s crowd control, shooing people away and entertaining Mookie, and for Angus playing the part of his sous-chef for the evening.

By the time dinner was ready and served, everyone was there and the apartment was full. Davenport was sitting on the couch between Merle and Lucretia, chatting away about something. Magnus and Killian were already arm wrestling as Carey cheered them on, and Mavis and Angus were having an animated conversation about their science fair project. Lup and Barry sat together on the floor, leaning on each other and listening to Kravitz talk about work. Julia had been given a chair because of her now visible baby bump, and she was doing her best to wrangle Mookie into sitting while he ate with exactly zero help from Merle.

Taako clutched his plate with both hands, looking out over the crowd. These were his people, his family. They were a chaotic mess, but by God they were his.

Kravitz caught his eye and smiled, beckoning him over. Taako wandered over to join him and Lup and Barry, leaning into his side. Kravitz put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

Lup was right, not that he’d ever tell her that. No matter what happened, no matter what else changed, he’d never be alone. Not if these people had anything to say about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY
> 
>   * “Perhaps Love” is the song that most captures the essence of TAZ Balance for me. I couldn’t not use it for one of the chapter titles. Some of those lyrics absolutely fuck me up though not gonna lie.
>   * I decided to end the fic with a “family dinner” because I felt like it would help wrap everything up nicely, get all (or at least most) of our major players in one place, and just generally be kinda sweet. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure whose point of view it should be from, so I wound up doing several short scenes from the points of view of different characters who hadn’t gotten a full POV chapter. Hopefully it wasn’t too jarring, jumping from person to person.
>   * One of my favourite narrative tropes is the “bookends” trope, where a story begins and ends with the same element to represent how things have changed over the course of the story. Every long/multi-chapter fic I’ve ever finished has included this trope.
>   * An issue I had with ending this story is the format made it difficult to find a good end point. No matter what, I was always going to have loose threads that weren’t totally tied up. At this point it’s just something I have to live with, because life is always going to have loose ends that aren’t totally tied up.
>   * But it _bothers meeeeeee_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this far! Have some bonus director’s commentary and stuff from my original notes/planning documents:
> 
>   * Scrapped chapters include: Angus, Mavis, and June at school, a chapter dedicated entirely to Taako’s cooking show, Sweet Flips wedding, “something about Lucas probably,” and the aforementioned Hurloane odd couple chapter. Nothing says I can’t write them as one-shots in the future, or even other fics taking place in this universe, but at least for now they live in the scrap heap.
>   * I had plans for Avi to be Killian’s coworker, but I never found a good time to bring him in. Same with Johann—he was originally going to work with Taako. I can’t believe I found a place to put fucking _Brogden_, but not Avi or Johann. Why am I like this I abandoned my boys
>   * The funeral home Kravitz works at was originally called Nevermore Funeral Services because I thought I was being clever.
>   * I fucking summed up John and Merle’s relationship with “Hey John, want an ice cream?” “Nothing in life matters, Merle.” “You’re right! _Two_ ice creams!”
>   * Also John was originally a politician instead of a public speaker for some reason.
>   * Boy I had plans for literally every character. I had plans for fucking _Cam_. Lol whoops
>   * My notes for Mookie say “something of a mix between [name] and [name]," which are actual children I know through work (I work in a school library)
>   * Sazed was going to come up in passing only as the guy who used to edit Taako’s videos but he got weird about it and Taako fired him. That was the only thing he was going to get in this fic bc Fuck Sazed
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading this! Please don’t forget to give the artists some love, they worked hard and deserve it, and please check out the rest of the fics in the Adventure Bang!


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